I am the mean one.
The one who cleans the muck from her ear. It hurts her.
I am the mean one.
The one who sponges the poo away from her blistered bottom and puts the creams on. It hurts too.
I am the mean one.
The one who makes her swallow the foul medicine and makes her ingest the food so that she will keep her strength up.
Me.
I’m that mean person and this morning she let me know.
She wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t come for a morning snuggle, would go to everyone else but not me.
Because I hurt her.
I am the ogre.
