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Showing posts from March, 2016

processing

Elsie has taken the big white envelope I've already emptied and a black biro and is scribbling on the back. 'What are you drawing Elsie?' I ask, surprised by the unusual content of the scene she is creating. 'It's a prison!' she says brightly, adding bars to the windows. 'Who's in the prison?' I ask, noting the small window at the bottom, with a little stick figure just visible within. 'A bad man' she says. 'He wanted to make a big war. A war with the whole globe.' 'So now he's in prison?' Molly checks. 'Why is he on the roof?' No, that's not the bad man!' Elsie says, laughing. 'That's the princess!' I recognise the standard long hair and big grin of Elsie's favourite subjects. 'What's a princess doing in the prison?' I ask. 'She's not in the prison, she's on the prison' Elsie explains. 'She's keeping an eye on things.'

Breakfast table copycats

Elsie: When I grow up I’m going to be a doctor, and then when I retire I’ll do another job. Molly: When I grow up I’m going to be a doctor, and then when I’m tired, I’ll sleep.