JANE is chasing after her TODDLER on her knees while holding his t-shirt and trousers, attempting to dress him. The child, in his nappy, resists, and is too busy walking and running back and forth in the hallway. A family portrait of three is hanging on the wall, slightly tilted. The front door to the apartment is visible.
TODDLER: Papa?
As he approaches the front door, he points to it.
TODDLER: Papa.
JANE: Yes, Papa went out for a bit. He will be back in five minutes.
TODDLER: Papa.
JANE: Yes, we know you love your Papa. What about Mama? Say Mama.
TODDLER: Papa.
JANE: Mama.
TODDLER: Papa.
JANE: (With a sigh) You mean, I carried you for nine months, went through labour, breast- fed you, and I don’t even get as little as an acknowledgement? Say Mama! Mama!
Pause
TODDLER: Ma- (JANE begins to smile) -ma, Papa? (As he points to the door again)
JANE’s smile fades and she throws the clothes on the ground, plumps down, crosses her legs, and rests her chin on one hand, in frustration.
—–
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Descent 
An allegory of my fears about motherhood x