Mali, while pretending to be a cow and holding a picture of my Mum: “This is a special cow. It’s an angel cow and it lives in heaven.”
- Me: So what did you learn about the eye?
- Mali: Mummy, I've already told you once. I don't need to tell you again.
Each of us can just lie here, make up stories and…EAT!
Mummy, why is Daddy lying on the floor? Is he dead?
- Mali: Mummy, did you know we have a pram in our body?
- Me: Um, no.
- Mali: Yes, a dia-pram.
Is that my pen pound?
- Mali: Mummy, that little girl was a bit bossy to me. Is she French?
- Me: No. I don't think she's French.
- Mali: Mummy, she was. She could be my pen pound.
Very good, Daddy. You’re being a very good grown-up.
Mummy’s special talent is giving me medicine and brushing my teeth, your (Daddy) special talent is singing and my special talent is dancing.
Mummy, I don’t like you when you go downstairs and leave me lonely in my tent. Say sorry to me.
“Mummy, I can hear your babies crying in your tummy. Mummy, when your babies are born I’ll stop them crying. Because I’m big enough to stop them crying. I know, I have a good idea. We could put one of them in my little, spotty buggy. They’d like that.”
For the record: No, not pregnant but ever since telling Mali that all girls and women are born with the eggs that babies come from in their tummy, she’s now obsessed with the fact we both have eggs & babies waiting to hatch in our tummies :-O
- Mali: 'You have hairs on your arms daddy'
- Me: 'So do you angel, but yours are tiny so you can't really see them. I'm a man so the hairs on my arms are bigger'
- Mali: 'I'm a tiny man"
Mummy, I’ve got goosebumples.
Me: Mali, stop scratching your (naked) bottom - you’ll spread bacteria & germs.
Mali: I’m just making sure my germs feel ok.
- Mali: Daddy, shall we give some of my toys away?
- Daddy: Do you want to?
- Mali: Um no, I want to keep them all.
Your highness, please may I have some milk?