Wednesday, 5 November 2008

The girl

Tonight my daughter asked me to play for a while before I put her to bed, and she made up stories for us to act out. She had me play the part of the spoon (just go with it, okay?) who hated frogs, and shooed Mr. Frog away.

Then (as she told the story), mosquitoes started to fly around and pester Spoon, who ran around trying to brush them all away. Then he remembered that frogs eat mosquitoes, apologized to Mr. Frog and invited him back.

Spoon was not bothered by mosquitoes anymore, and was never mean to Frog again, because he realized that we need frogs.

I wish more people understood what my four-year-old understands.

Photo: My daughter deep in the Donadea woods.