Walked into the nursery playground on Friday to be bombarded by Rosie and her two friends.
“We’ve changed our names,” they cried in unison.
“I’m not Rosie anymore.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Daphne.”
“Me too,” said her friends.
It’s a new crush they’ve developed on Daphne, the glamorous red-head from Scooby Doo. Poor old Thelma doesn’t get a look in. Rosie has even said that Princesses don’t wear glasses which I struggled to argue with. Eventually she agreed that Sleeping Beauty may very well have needed glasses for reading but we’ll never know because we never see her with a book.
All day yesterday Rosie kept saying “I’m just going to think about Daphne,” then she'd withdraw into a quiet state of concentration. She did this at the swings while all the other kids played and later on the train. She ordered me to as well, so I did.
As well as Daphne she likes the three Ps - pink, princesses and ponies. She has a pink Christmas list the length of the Chinese Wall but as well as these dainty gubbins she's totally in love with toilet humour. She orders the Prince to burp on demand, says "bum" continously and then laughs hysterically especially if any adult might choose to join in. In Spain she said "culo" to vary the mix.
She's getting so big it's scary, but she'll always be my baby.
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