Conversations

Little man had a lot to tell me at half past six this morning after a long weekend with daddy.

'B a big boy. Mummy a lady. Daddy a big man. B grow da big man [B will grow up into a big man.] B is your friend. Hide, mummy, a big drag[on] come. A big green drag[on]. Mummy's feet in. Daddy got cars film on his phone. Daddy bumped his car in the ice. Daddy broke his old car. Daddy got a new car. B get da bogey in mine nose. B squash dat [my boob, that is]. My wood hammer is downdestairs. My wood hammer. Go downdestairs get mine wood hammer. Warm milk, mummy. WARM MILK, MUMMY!'

I tried to tell him that mummy could also be referred to as a woman, since I am not a member of the nobility. But he wasn't having it. He is also adamant that he is not a little boy any more. And daddy did in fact write his car off in the ice last week and have to buy a new one.