I was downstairs, taking a leaf out of Noonah's book, pottering. Maia was upstairs, quietly playing in her room. Or so I thought. After a sustained period of peace and quiet, I knew something was up.
'Maia, sweet-pea, whatcha doing?' I called up the stairs.
'Sharing'
'Sharing what?'
'I am in here, sharing your special things'
I took the stairs, two at a time, to find her bedecked in bracelets and necklaces, filling one of my evening bags with booty.
I gently removed the Tiffany necklace (she wasn't too bothered - it is a bit subtle for a three year old magpie) and let her keep the rest.
She spent the next hour or so, naked, bejewelled, running around the kitchen, singing Zippedy-Doo-Dah.
Certainly ain't boring, that kid.
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