This, I am told, is the name of the game Beanie and Rose were playing when I came out of my room a little while ago. They were crouched on the top stair with big Cheshire cat grins. Which, it turned out, were appropriate to the game: they were cats.
"The landing where the stairs turn is the end of childhood, see," Rose explained to me. "And once you’re below that, the stairs get EVEN SLIPPERIER and if you aren’t careful you slide all the way down to the bottom and then you’re DEAD."
"If you’re a cat," Bean chimed in.
Rose nodded. "Right, if you’re a cat."
What I want to know is, how do they already know the part about things speeding up once you make that left turn out of childhood? Because that bit doesn’t just apply to cats.
My six-year-old’s library search queue
My Son, Aged Three Years and Five Months
“For the lover of truth, discussion is always possible…”
Our Big Cross-Country Trip, Scrapbooked
It’s possible we’re a wee bit distracted today.