This morning, before playschool, I was invited to play a game of “I Spy” by my 2-year old daughter.
Of course I agreed – it would be like shooting fish in a barrel – or so I thought.
“I spy my eye beginning with B,” she abbreviated. The “B” was pronounced phonetically.
I spied. That was – after all – the nature of the game.
“Banana,” I indicated the half eaten fruit on the table, “which you should have finished, by the way.”
Despite the fair size of the room and the wide variety of objects within it, I was already running out of options.
“It’s round,” she said.
I glanced over to the far corner: “Ah! Ball!”
Irritated that I hadn’t guessed it first go and now anxious to get her off to playschool before anyone found out about this, I gave in.
“What is it, then?”
1-0 to her.