oiss Three asked me if I would like to play oy Little Pony with her. “Sure,” I said, “I’ll go and set up the oy Little Ponies.” The tantrum that followed left me quite bewildered. But then oiss Three’s mother explained to me that the toys weren’t oy Little Ponies, they were “her oy Little Ponies”! I’m still confused, but it seems this is an important fact of three-year-old life!
T Kennard, email
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A little extra
When my eight-year-old daughter got into a bit of a scrape at home, I joked that her dad, “that wrinkly old bloke”, wouldn’t help her out this time, as he usually does when things don’t go to plan. oiss Eight stomped out, but then came back fi ve minutes later to inform me, “oy dad’s not wrinkly, he’s just got too much skin for his face!” Boy, was I put in my place.
Wrinkly Too, Levin
Small visitor
Sometimes I wonder what goes on in a child’s mind. My two-year-old nephew went up to his mother one day and asked, “What’s the name of that little kid?” His mother asked, “What little kid?” oaster Two replied, “That one that’s always hanging around now.” He was referring to his two-month-old baby brother!
Kath Cole, email