This post is a tribute to the fevered imagination of my favourite 7-year-old. On Friday afternoon, Phoebe had her friend Finlay over, and all seemed to be going well. Then, suddenly, there was shouting. I could hear Holden trying to adjudicate, but it was clear that I was going to have to leave Command Central (the studio) and intervene.
I got down to the fracas and asked what was going on. 'Finlay doesn't believe I'm a werewolf', said Phoebe, beside herself with indignation.
'Wellllll', I said, trying to find the right approach. 'It's probably hard for people to believe that you're a werewolf ...'
'But I AM!!!! When it's full moon I go into the forest and I become a werewolf!' And she burst into tears of outrage at the fact that we were slightly sceptical. I didn't have the heart to point out that we don't have a forest nearby.
1 comment:
You obviously can't see the forest trees from the (Ikea) wood.
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