Ballet
After ballet, I take the 5 year old to the sweet shop, where she is allowed to choose a small treat. She doesn’t like ballet, prefers rugby, so it is essentially a bribe.
She chooses, as she usually does, a Kinder Egg. She eats it while walking home, in her pink tights and tutu, shoving the chocolate into her face with one hand, clasping the toy in the other.
When we get home, she immediately rushes up to her room. I have noticed this habit before. I follow her up, quietly but swiftly making my ascent. I poke my head around her door.
She carefully removes, from her pocket, a lolly, and places inside a pig puppet. She puts the pig puppet beneath a stack of toys and calls my name.
“What are you up to up here?” I ask, casually, pretending to be out of breath.
“Nothing. Can we play the police game? I’m police, you’re criminal”.
Later, while she is eating dinner, I go up to her room and unearth the pig puppet. It is packed full of sweets. I decide to confront her.
“What are these?”
“My sweets”, she says, with a mouth full of pasta, “Put them back”.
“Where did you get them from?”
“I took them from the shop”.
“You stole them?”
“Took them”.
“Stole them”.
“Took them”.
“You can’t do that”.
“I can”.
“Well, you’re not meant to”.
“Well, you’re not meant to give me Kinder Eggs”.
“Why?”
“It’s meant to be a small treat. Kinder Egg is a big treat”.
“Stop stealing”.
“Stop giving me Kinder Eggs”.
The Male Nanny
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