It’s the lead-up to our granddaughter’s fourth birthday and the day of the $60 million lottery jackpot.
“Let’s buy a lottery ticket to celebrate your birthday”.
“Yes. Lottery, yay!”
What would you buy if you won sixty million dollars?” we ask jokingly.
“Fish and chips!” she answers joyously.
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Our seven and a half year old grandson likes chewing on dried fruit. We have a glut of mandarins.
“Arrow, will you make me some dried oranges, please?”
A couple of days later I hand him a bag of dehydrated slices. I point to the sachets of food grade silica gel and, choosing my words carefully, I tell him, “See those little white packets? Don’t put those near your mouth. They are special chemical stuff to take away any moisture.”
“Oh,” he says, “the dessicant.”
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We are having a conversation around the dinner table. The seven and a half year old is acting very grown-up.
“Where’s that little boy we used to know?” Granny asks fondly.
He’s hiding”, I say, going along with it.
“I wonder where he is?” she says.
“In your head,” says the little boy.