Soon, he would be a man, and do things like his father and leave her for school, and then for other worldly occupations, like marriage to another woman. Sooner yet Madame Monet would be occupied once again with the new, tiny wearer of the nightgown she was sewing. But for now, the mother and son could simply enjoy one another's presence in the garden.
Madame had sewn the blue dress Claude was wearing. Soon she would need to sew long pants for Claude, rather than an infant's dress. Her husband thought that Claude was already getting to old to wear such childish things. But he humored his wife until the next child would be born. Madame had not yet begun to show her 'condition' or to have to let out her own dresses, but it would be soon, she was sure. She smelled the air as she sewed, glad for a moment of freedom before she would have to be confined to the house by her second pregnancy.
Madame wished sometimes that she could be like her husband. Monsieur Monet looked so happy when he headed off to work everyday, whistling in his suit and hat. Claude was such a quiet child. He was not always good company, even though she loved watching and being with him. Still, she wished she could have adult conversation with other people, besides the maid. These thoughts she tried to drive from her mind...
He held the toys so that the light from the sun would cast shadows upon the pebble path. He made different cities, ordering the toys in certain ways. When he grew tired of this, he asked his mother for something else to do. Madame Monet gave him a scrap of fabric from her sewing basket. Claude put his toys to the side and took a white piece of fabric, and let the sun reflect different bits of light from above upon the cloth.
Soon, the sun grew too hot for Madame Monet. She knew she should hurry home and make sure that the chicken for Monsieur Monet was prepared perfectly, icy cold for a June Paris day, with figs and grapes of the same temperature, yet with a slightly warmer runny brie and cheese so it would not chill her husband's stomach too much for the rest of the day at the office. Then she would have to supervise the roasting of the duck for the evening meal. She should buy some pears at the market for dessert, too. She had much to do, she realized, and could not while the rest of the day in silence at the park. She had months still before the little nightgown had to be completed. "Come, Claude, let's go," she said. They left.
