When Hanna was two, we sat in the Doctor’s waiting room, pouring through dirty, children’s books that were missing several pages, torn and of course, covered in slimy, wet, little kid germs. We started singing little songs we had learned at one of our playgroups. “The cows give us milk, the cows give us milk. The chickens give us eggs, the chickens give us eggs. The ducks give us tape” I paused.

“The ducks give us tape.”

I sat confused.

“Hanna, did you say the ducks give us tape?” and as the words escaped my mouth I remembered Greg was planning to “duct tape” a metal hook that had broken in half earlier and had explained to Hanna how he was going to fix it with duct tape.

Time for a tea break.