To begin with, Daddy is not well. He has picked up a bug, his stomach is decidedly not constant, and he can at best move very, very slowly. But that 5 Year Old won't pick herself up, so off he stumbles...
The 5 Year Old is, of course, a whirling dervish today, starting off with a game she calls "Funtime!" which basically involves sprinting up the concrete slope at school and then hurtling back down it and barrelling into me at 500 miles per hour as I groan with nausea. We then move on to holding my hand and yanking on my arm as she skips like a maniac and sings a song called "Bibbi-di-boo," which from the rapier like wit of its lyrics and ornate construction of its melody I am assuming she wrote herself.
I am in no mood for conversation, but eventually an issue preys on her mind enough to share.
"I am worried about the toy in my shoe." She has bought new shoes with a dolly hidden in the heel, a free gift which surprisingly no longer adds £5 to the cost as when 13 Year Old big sister had similar.
"Why is that?" I ask.
"You are not supposed to take toys to school."
"Ah. Did you get it out?"
"No."
"Did your teacher ask about it?"
"No."
"Did you tell your friends about it?"
"No."
"So nobody knows it's there!"
"But I know it's there, Daddy." A-ha. A moral dilemma!
"Did you worry about having it today?" She nods. "So why don't you take the dolly out and leave it at home?"
"Because I would worry about losing it, and that is worse!"
"Do you ever look at it at school?"
"No, there is no need, there is a picture of it on the heel." It is absolutely imperative that we check this, even though she has to lean on me and I have to lean on a fence and we still aren't balanced. There is.
"Well, that's easy then. If you never look at it and never play with it, it ISN'T a toy!"
This is a bit existential for her, but evidently makes sense. So, back to "Bibbi-di-boo."
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