Little s loves to help. Today we were in the front garden. I arbitrarily ripped up the plants I considered to be weeds, showing my little girl all the ants, bugs and wriggly worms I discovered along the way. She dutifully carried tiny fistfuls of debris to the bin.
After half an hour or so, I noticed that the bin didn’t appear any fuller but s still shuttled back and forth between my pile of disembowelled plants and the tub near the door.
Naturally, and given her gastronomic enthusiasm, I feared the worst: that she was gently munching her way through the foliage and insects. I need not have worried. She wasn’t eating it. She was pushing all through the letterbox.
And, such is the nature of things in our house, at the moment I noticed this inventive solution from the outside, T, busy tidying, discovers it from the inside. I could tell - I'd know that scream anywhere.
She didn’t even seem excited to see the ‘wiggly warm, mummy, wiggly warm’ on the hall carpet. I don't know why she was so upset, it least it was a whole one this time.
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