The title is a bit nasty, but my Grandma was one of the sweetest grandmothers a child could ask for. She was also quite fat, but that’s because she had a sweet tooth, which I have also inherited…along with her arse. Thanks Grandma, this one’s for you.
CAST:
MUM
BABCIA: (Polish for Grandma)
VERONICA: Aged 3.
SET in 1987.
(MUM and BABCIA enter the kitchen of MUM’s house. BABCIA sits at the table, and MUM puts the kettle on as she lugs BABCIA’s luggage into the guest bedroom.)
MUM: So, do you want a cup of tea?
BABCIA: It’s too hot in here.
MUM: Sorry, I’ll open a window.
BABCIA: What are you crazy? You’ll let all the hot air in. Leave it leave it, I’ll manage, I’m just saying it’s hot, I don’t know how you can stand it.
MUM: You get used to it.
(silence)
BABCIA: I don’t see why you had to move.
MUM: We had no choice mum.
BABCIA: There was plenty of choice!
MUM: Not for us! (pause) What were we going to do over there?
BABCIA: Things are different now.
MUM: Maybe now, yes, but it wasn’t when back then.
BABCIA: You should have had patience.
MUM: (biting her tongue) So, do you want a cup of tea?
BABCIA: Have you lost your head? You want me to die of heat stroke? No I don’t want a tea! (pause) Glass of water will do nicely though.
(MUM gets a glass and heads to the tap.)
BABCIA: With ice.
(MUM stops and turns to the freezer)
BABCIA: With a slice of lemon.
(MUM stops and heads to the fruit basket)
BABCIA: So where’s Veronica?
MUM: She’s at crèche.
BABCIA: What’s crèche?
MUM: It’s daycare. Kids go there during the day while the parents are at work.
BABCIA: So this is like a school?
MUM: Not really, they don’t learn anything. They paint and play.
BABCIA: Did she paint this? (points to a finger painting on a wall).
MUM: Yes she did.
BABCIA: And what’s that written on the top?
MUM: Her name. That’s how it’s spelt in English. (NB: In Polish Veronica is spelt Weronika)
BABCIA: She wrote it by herself?
MUM: Roman spelt it for her, and she wrote the letters.
BABCIA: She’s smart!
MUM: She’s excited to see you. She’s been practicing a song on the piano for you.
BABCIA: I can’t wait to hear it. She’s very talented. You should put her in a school now. A special program for geniuses. This sort of talent has to be nurtured at an early age.
MUM: She’s three years old mum, I think she has plenty of time to nurture her talents.
BABCIA: But she could loose it when she’s older.
MUM: She’ll loose her childhood when she’s older. Right now she needs to play, there’ll be plenty of time for study later.
(silence between the two of them. BABCIA looks around her.)
BABCIA: How often do you wash the windows?
MUM: Twice a year.
BABCIA: TWICE A YEAR!
MUM: Well, mum, this is a house! This isn’t like a flat where you only have the kitchen window to clean everyday.
BABCIA: No excuse.
(BABCIA gets up and has a look around the kitchen.)
BABCIA: (picking up a packet of bread) What’s this?
MUM: It’s bread.
BABCIA: But it’s already sliced!
MUM: That’s how it comes in Australia.
BABCIA: (throwing it away from her) I won’t eat it.
(the door open and VERONICA comes running into the kitchen)
VERONICA: BABCIA!
BABCIA: Ah my little kitten come here and give me a cuddle. Oh look at you, you’re so beautiful (to MUM), she is so beautiful!
MUM: (to VERONICA) Go wash your hands and then you can come and have a snack.
VERONICA: OK. (leaves)
BABCIA: She’s so beautiful.
MUM: I know.
BABCIA: (after a pause) She should come back to Poland with us.
MUM: What?
BABCIA: She should come back to Poland with us. Your father and I will raise her, and when she’s 15 she can come back to–
MUM: No.
BABCIA: (stunned) Why not?
MUM: Because she’s my daughter and she stays with me.
BABCIA: Ok. It was just a suggestion. Think about it.
MUM: No need. My decision is final.
(VERONICA comes racing in and sits at the bench)
MUM: Ready for your snack?
VERONICA: Yes. (to BABCIA) I learnt a song on the piano.
BABCIA: I know, your mother told me, and I can’t wait to see it. Oh! I have a present for you! (goes through her handbag and pulls out a Polish chocolate bar)
VERONICA: Thank you. (pause) What is it?
BABCIA: It’s a chocolate.
MUM: Veronica doesn’t eat chocolate.
BABCIA: DOESN’T EAT CHOCOLATE!
MUM: No.
BABCIA: Why?
MUM: I just don’t give it to her.
BABCIA: That’s just cruel. What sort of childhood is it if it doesn’t have chocolate? (to VERONICA) You poor baby, don’t worry, I will give you sweets. Here, don’t worry about your sandwich, eat the chocolate, you’ll like it better.
MUM: At least give it to her after dinner.
BABCIA: Dinner is too far away, with a small tummy like hers the child will starve. (to VERONICA) Go on sweetheart. Here, I’ll open it for you.
(BABCIA unwraps the chocolate bar and VERONICA looks at it. She then sniffs it, and then takes a little bite. Then a bigger bite. Her eyes widen as she chews and heads for an even bigger bite. MUM looks on in worry, BABCIA looks on with a smile)
THE END.
Comments