Little T and her father like to invent stories, they do this after her Dad has read her a bed-time story. They create their very own, which usually includes herself and her close friends at school, sometimes it’s also about her favourite toys.
It’s sweet to hear them do their make-up stories as I go about doing my chores, mostly it’s trying to clear-away the mess in the living room. The only problem is little T likes to end her turn with “And then they died … ” And according to my husband, she says this with her big-brown eyes, a serious expression on her face, leans forward and then declares “Your turn Dad!”
Then the husband has to rack his brains out to think of ways not to end the story with the characters dying. For example:
T: “Then F, M and R fell into a dark hole and then they died …. Your turn Dad!”
Husband: “But unknown to them, that dark hole was a magic hole! They landed on their bums and had a good laugh about it”
What’s this obsession with dying? I blame Finding Nemo, no wait. I blame Frozen. Little T likes to mention that Elsa’s parents sailed away and ended up drowning and dying. “I don’t want you to die Mummy” She says worriedly to me. While I’m tempted to assure her that I’m not going to die, I tell her instead that I’m not going to die anytime soon (silently add, I hope). Instead I say “When mummy does, I’ll be a very old woman and you’ll be a grown-up with a great career, your own home and family”.
That usually does the trick, because my four-year-old also likes to talk about marriage.
“I want to marry F, mummy!” For those who have been reading my blog for some time now, you’ll be familiar with F, who happens to be my daughter’s best friend since age two. She has many friends now, but F will always be her best friend and the boy she wants to marry.
I say to her, “You’re only four T, I’m sure you’ll change your mind”
“No mummy. I won’t ever, ever, ever, change my mind!”
The next day, she changes her mind and wants to marry N. What about F, I ask. “Oh M wants to marry F, so I’m going to marry N now”.
Little T and I are Catholics. But somehow it was understood that our daughter would be a Catholic too. He doesn’t mind at all.
Every night we say our prayers. I taught her how to pray “Angel of God” but also taught her a short prayer when she’s really tired. Of course now, she always opts for the shorter version.
“Is God more powerful than Father Christmas?”
“Why is God more powerful than Father Christmas?”
“Well because God made Father Christmas!”
“Does that mean, all my present are from God then?”
At the age four, she’s got everything sorted-out already.
Do you have funny conversations with your little ones?