Aged three, Thing 1 had formed the opinion that human anatomy
wasn't as complicated as grown-ups would have her believe.
“Why have you got small boobies, Grandad?”
“Why have your teeth got black bits, Grandad?”
“Not black. Silver.”
“They’re fillings, where the dentist repaired my teeth.”
And the latest is, “When will you die?” To which I’m tempted to answer, “Probably when you call out some boundary-breaking question in a crowded public place.”
Our daughter, now mother of three - so the message in the library book all those years ago, must have stuck – was telling me, today, that Thing 1 sprang from the bath last evening, pointed to her distended tummy and declared it full of strawberries. She went on to explain that her head was full of fish, and her arms packed with biscuits. Beats slugs, snails and puppy dog’s tails I suppose!