redundancy

My daughter wants a bass guitar and asked me if it’s wrong of her. Of course not I reassure her.  Or myself.  ”But we can’t get one can we?”  No, I tell her.  We don’t know what we’re doing just now because Dad has just lost his job.  I want to be honest but don’t want her to know too much, to panic.  My daughter is quite a cool and logical customer.  And she loves music.  At 12 she’s just become part of a band in school and they want her to be the bass player.  I tell her I think that’s great.  ”But how can I be the bass player if I can’t get a guitar?”  ”We’ll have to try and borrow one or get one second-hand until we know what’s happening.”  ’Where from,” she asks.  ”I’ll think of something,” I say confidently.  I haven’t the first clue but need some time.  She’s not convinced. “There’s no point me wanting this is there? It’s not going to happen.”  ”I’ll try and win a poetry competition,” I declare.  (This is a real measure of desperation but my daughter doesn’t know it.)

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