Squashed

A couple more Little Cherub stories for your entertainment ...

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Dinner last night included butternut squash, and there was some discussion at the table about who liked squash and who didn't. Then we noticed Cherub busily mashing up her sauteed potatoes.

She had, apparently, been listening to the conversation.

Me: "What are you doing, Cherub?"
Cherub: (proudly) "I dosh!"

Yum. Squashed potatoes.

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Tevye, myself and K-next-door were eating fairy cakes and offered one to Cherub. No, she didn't want cake, she wanted biscuit (cookie). Dog biscuit.

Dog biscuit? She had already had a couple of little animal shaped biscuits, so we guessed she wanted a dog shaped one.

No, no, no! That wasn't right at all! She wanted dog biscuit. We don't have a dog. We couldn't work out how she could even know there was such a thing as dog biscuit. But by this time she had reached the stage of rolling on the floor wailing "I want dog biscuit!"

It took an older sister to translate what the adults had utterly failed to grasp.

It wasn't a dog biscuit she wanted.

It was a choc biscuit.

Oops! No wonder she was cross. What were those daft parents wittering on about dogs for when all she wanted was a chocolate biscuit?