Chatting in the kitchen
This is a conversation I had with my niece in the kitchen the other day. For those of you who don’t know, she’s 3½, smart as anything, and very verbal.
Hikmah - I’m a man
Me - You’re a man?
H - Yes I am
Me - So, what’s your name?
H - A Man (she didn’t exactly state the capitals, but I could tell she meant them)
Me - Mr Man?
H - No - Black Man (She has a Bat-man figurine - After months of her referring to him as ‘my man’, and me being childishly amused by that reminding me of Dara O’Briain and various other Irish people, I tried to teach her that his name was ‘Bat Man’ - ‘Black Man?’ she asked? ‘No, Bat Man’. Since that day, he’s been Black Man. I guess it’s logical, given his outfit, and she knows it makes me laugh every time).
Me - So, does that mean you can fly?
H - Yes I can. Hold my legs. I can fly like a duck.
This is a true story. Stay tuned for further adventures of the coolest kid on the block.
Hikmah - I’m a man
Me - You’re a man?
H - Yes I am
Me - So, what’s your name?
H - A Man (she didn’t exactly state the capitals, but I could tell she meant them)
Me - Mr Man?
H - No - Black Man (She has a Bat-man figurine - After months of her referring to him as ‘my man’, and me being childishly amused by that reminding me of Dara O’Briain and various other Irish people, I tried to teach her that his name was ‘Bat Man’ - ‘Black Man?’ she asked? ‘No, Bat Man’. Since that day, he’s been Black Man. I guess it’s logical, given his outfit, and she knows it makes me laugh every time).
Me - So, does that mean you can fly?
H - Yes I can. Hold my legs. I can fly like a duck.
This is a true story. Stay tuned for further adventures of the coolest kid on the block.
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