Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:


The baby no longer fits into what he easily fit into just a short while ago. The body stocking with the Mickey Mouse print is too tight, so is the woolen cap, the arms of the gray pajama with the red trim around the zipper are reaching far across the wrists, the new diaper size now has a Plus after the number. And you, your belly — while our baby sits on your arm (you happen to be standing in front of the picture of your grandmother), it’s really unmistakeable: that’s where the baby fits least of all! So this is what is called growth: no longer fitting. A creeping unffitingness. Which takes hold first of the body and later the mind (it’s only when the body has become fitting that the mind really starts to get going. This is how we imagine it – giving each other nods of mutual confirmation: there, in your belly, there really is no more room the baby -, so: once our baby has gotten big some day, his mind will begin to undertake our inspection, and the two of us will get smaller and smaller, small enough for us to fit inside a belly again, not yours, but some belly, perhaps one that itself is just now being born.)

Kommentar verfassen

Trage deine Daten unten ein oder klicke ein Icon um dich einzuloggen:


Du kommentierst mit Deinem WordPress.com-Konto. Abmelden /  Ändern )


Du kommentierst mit Deinem Twitter-Konto. Abmelden /  Ändern )


Du kommentierst mit Deinem Facebook-Konto. Abmelden /  Ändern )

Verbinde mit %s