Twins
Belle's teacher has complained to me about her lack of concentration. She seems more interested in musing than in paying attention to lessons. She has been forgetting to bring to school the books she is supposed to and sometimes even forget to bring all the homework too. We have diverging schedules, and I can only monitor her by the phone. Yesterday, we had a talk. I told her that Isabel, my daughter, is in truth composed of two little girls. There is Belle, who is responsible and knows exactly what she has to do. And there is Beka, who is fun, loves to make jokes, and would rather listen to music and read comic books than do homework. I love them both, but sometimes, I said, Belle has to make Beka shut up.
I think I know what I am talking about. I can be Miss Flighty myself. I have come to identify many Livias. One of them is Miss Discipline, who can organize things by herself, exercise daily, diet, study and be methodical. Another one prefers to brood, doesn't like to leave her room, and would rather do nothing but indulge on her own train of thoughts. One is daring and travelled half world by herself. Another one is shy and afraid of people. One loves to chat, and write, and say silly things. Another one prizes silence. All of them are curious. All of them are slightly clumsy.
There is one who hates hipocrisy with all her might, and often gets her hand slapped for saying what she thinks. Another is a diplomat, and chooses to say less. One is forgiving, one never forgets. One is practical minded, one is crying because she would love to keep her grandmother's vanity in her room, learn to make up her eyes and have lots of girlish stuff. One of them enjoys to be praised. Another one blushes. Some of them want to be pleasing. Some of them want to be loved. But all of them know that it is impossible to please all.
There is one, a brat, who is going to the US in June. It is the one who eats pineapple floats and drinks multicolored tequillas, but if it pleases her she can live on lettuce and jog every morning. She steps on yellow lines fearlessly but it is a chicken when it comes to rollercoasters. She understands no rules, falls asleep when she has to, wakes up when she decides. She claps her hands, laughs out loud, cries when she watches fireworks and loves to be hugged. But if you step on her toes, she will scream. If you see her, say hello.
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