I squinted in the general direction she was pointing, desperately trying to seek out the mountain she was so eager to show me.
“There’s no mountain poppet, just a lot of trees and some water,” breaking the news gently. Panicking now, she started jumping up and down. “No Mummy! Look! A MOUNTAIN!”
And then I saw it. A beautiful fountain gurgling merrily away. Ah. So that was it.
This was not the first case of mistaken identity to befall my daughter. At three years old, she has a pretty impressive vocabulary but there are some words that allude her.
“Daddy got a Number Two on his arm,” she told me last night. Horrified, I searched my husband’s arm to let him know of the foul mess that had somehow made its way there. Instead, I found a tattoo that he’s sported since before we met.
A few days ago, at a local farm, Frog wanted to find the “Chick cunks”. It didn’t take long to work out she was after Alvin, Simon, Theodore and friends.
So far though, we have yet to beat her error when spotting a particular vehicle. It’s a tiny mistake – only one letter in fact. But a vital one. Especially when you take into consideration that she tends to yell at the top of her voice when she sees one.
“LOOK! MUMMY! LOOK!”
As I see it swerve towards us I panic, knowing what’s coming next. It’s a busy street. Plenty of people around.
“MUUUUUUUM! It’s a….. DOUBLE-DICKER BUS!”
I can never leave the house again.
Linking up with Wot So Funnee? at Actually Mummy.