Monkey!

My eldest is creative, he tells incredible stories and plays interesting games which always start,’ Pretend that you..................then I................so you say......................... then I do............’ it’s quite a challenge to remember what you’re supposed to do in this role play extravaganza. (I usually get it wrong!)

There’s usually a bit of, ‘In real life......’ thrown in for good measure.

Yet, despite his creativity there is one area which he is a ‘it does what it says on the tin’ kind of little fella – and that is in toy names- his favourite soft toys are called ‘Bear’, ‘Doggy’, ‘Caterpillar’ and ‘Frog’. He never deviates to a ‘Big Bear’ ‘Woofer’, ‘Crawly’ or ‘Hoppy’ let alone a ‘Bill’ or a ‘Cedric’ or even a ‘Hahihooha’ (which I think is a fine name for a toy!)

He has a baby doll whose name is the same as his brother, bought around the same time as he was born and causing some confusion in the first few baby-hazed Mummy weeks of his life!

So I was surprised the other day when we were playing and I said, ‘I bet I can guess your name!’ to one of his toys,

‘Go on then’ he said in a monkey voice on behalf of the toy.

‘Monkey!’ I said.

‘Nooo’ he replied, with the most scornful look I have ever seen on a five year old!

‘Oh’ I said, ‘What is it then?’

‘Monkey – monkey’ he said, ‘It’s hyphenated!’

(O.K. he didn’t say it’s hyphenated but it startled me as much as it would have done had he!)

His use of language can be limiting and he conforms to all the childhood rules, some of which I had forgotten, for instance, he has an ‘enemy’ in his class at school who kicks him at play time and sometimes pushes him around.

He does now tell the teacher when this happens who puts the child in ‘time out’ – super nanny style I suppose.

This child is tiny.

My boy is nearly twice his size.

This child told him that because he is five and my boy is only four that he is stronger than him and not just that he can do a whole range of things my boy can’t like jump higher, run faster and so on.

My boy because of the childhood rules and of course the ‘magic’ found in age when you’re a kid (do you remember being astounded that grown up’s sometimes had to think to remember their age? Or being extremely hurt and offended if some old Granny or other forgot your age and assumed you were a year younger than you were?)  believes him.

This is despite me frustratedly explaining that he is taller, bigger and very probably stronger – but what do I know? He is convinced.

After his birthday last week I wondered if this would change, if my boy could hold his head up high proud of being the five year old he now is!

But no,

He came home from school complaining again about this enemy.

‘Darling, you are just as strong as him’ I said.

I got that scornful look again.

‘But I’m only five!’ he said and then with much emphasis, ‘Jack is five and a half!’