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Toddler logic

“Mummy, your hair is the colour of poo isn’t it?” said Eliza as she sat on the loo at 6.50am today.

“Well, technically I suppose, but not really darling no,” said I taking a quick glance in the mirror just to make sure.

“But your hair is brown and so is poo so it’s the same isn’t it?” She was deadly serious.

“Well yes it is.  Good observation.” I’m sure it’s all part of the learning process and let’s face it my hair has seen better days.

Then we came downstairs to play but Eliza wanted to ‘help’ me wrap presents.

“Ok, there’s one here we can wrap for Daddy.” I said and handed her a warm Christmas jumper from the secret hiding place. She grabbed it and started to go upstairs.

“Where are you going?” I said.

“To give it to Daddy.” She said like I was a total moron for asking. Maybe I was.

“No we have to wrap it and put it under the tree darling, he can’t have it until Christmas day.”

“No, no Mummy,” very serious, “he has to have it now because you haven’t wrapped it, and he has to say Happy Birthday to me when I give it to him.” She said legging it up the stairs.

“But we have to wrap it first Eliza, that’s how it works.”

“No Mummy. I give it to him and then he puts it under the Christmas tree!”  I gave up. I just know when I reach a point where my adult logic and understanding of how the world works collides with hers and to continue would just end in tears. Him indoors played along rather well though, declaring rather loudly (so I could hear no doubt) that he’d wear it on Christmas day.

But the fun didn’t stop there. No she wanted to do some serious wrapping this morning, so she got out the wrapping paper and laid it out on the kitchen floor. Then she went and got a random collection of toys and said we had to wrap them all up.  They consisted of:

- an ancient Peppa doll who was definitely a Christmas present several years ago for one of her cousins.
- the empty head of Mr Potato Head minus any defining features.
- a sort of board picture type thing with holes in it that had once had laces weaved into it.
- her dolly’s dress

We then wrapped up all these ‘presents’ and put them under the tree.

I wonder if that would work in a few years time…? Perhaps not. Shame.

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