Now I am four, I am bigger. Obviously. Mummy has been slowly stocking up on 4-5 clothes being the super-organised Mummy that she is. Up until now they have been way too big. But guess what? I woke up on my fourth birthday and, hey presto! They fitted me:
Now I’m four, I tell brilliant jokes. Michael McIntyre: watch out! Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the gravy! Why did Rapunzel cross the road? To get her hair cut! Mummy and Daddy find these jokes of mine particularly funny. They don’t think I notice, but I see them exchange those sly, cheeky grins.
Now I’m four, I am braver. I used to cry over everything and anything, but now I'm really trying hard not to. Except for when my brother poos in the bath. Oh and pulls my hair. And slaps me round the face and then laughs in it.
Now I’m four,
my I doing really
well at remembering to say ‘I’ and not ‘my’. Bit annoyed that now Mummy is
going on about forgetting to say ‘I am’. Though, strangely, earlier when I proudly
stated, ‘this is I’s toothbrush’, she told me to say ‘my toothbrush’. Sheesh,
there’s no pleasing some people.
Now I am four, I am starting to get a little emotional over films. Yesterday Mummy and I were snuggling up on the sofa watching a Christmas film. The little boy in the story asked Santa whether he could spend Christmas Day with him, as his family didn’t really like Christmas. I thought this was soooooo sad. I really tried to be brave but I just couldn’t stop the tears. I looked over at Mummy and she was crying too! She said, ‘gosh, we’re a right pear aren’t we?!’ Not quite sure why she was going on about fruit. Grown ups do baffle me sometimes. Perhaps I’ll understand them a little more when I am five….