Up until I turned five, it went without saying that a mother lived and breathed solely in order for us kids to always stay happy, safe to make mischief all day long or sniffle on their arm until the end of our days. Only later, much later did I realize that Mom had a life and will of her own, and that sooner or later she will let go of my hand. Only later did the powers above reveal that life was more dangerous and frightening than what I experienced in the cozy fireside warmth home.  My eyes were opened to the world and I saw that my mother was a mystery like nobody else's.
I believe it all started in my final year at  Elfgarden Daycare. One afternoon, we had several mothers crowding the daycare changing-room. It was a late spring day, and one of them, little Ferike's mom was wearing sandals. As I stooped to change my outdoor shoes, her toenails caught my eye. It wasn't so much the polish, but the unusual shape and number of toes, and those petite feet.
"Zoning out?" my mom laughs out behind me. "Come on, let's hurry before they run out of butter rolls at the corner shop," she quickly says as she crouches beside me to help with my unruly laces.
I never asked her why. I just kept my eyes open. Staring at women's feet all the way home. A mother coming across the minimart aisle, huge belly bulging as she pushed her bay stroller, long summer dress over her naked feet. Leather sandal straps separated each shapely toe, and I peered between the canned goods shelves to get a better view of her red-polished nails. Standing at the checkout, an older girl was getting a dressing-down from her mother, for snapping bubbles from her gum and being lippy with the cashier lady. I looked down. Beside the girl's white sneakers, her mom's open flipflops set me thinking again. How could I have not noticed all this time?
By the time we got home, I was catching on to the truth. My mother was different. Nobody else had four oddly short fingers, or those little round pawlike pads. Her powerful nails were curved, like animal claws. Until that day I'd never wondered why I had five fingers, or why mother and I were so unalike.
 
translated by Dani Dányi