“What happened to Muzzy, Daddy?” “What’s this doing here, Maddy?”
“Is it pasta time, Mummy?” “Lola go to parco, Dummy?”
“Is Rosie coming?” “It’s broken — I’ll put it back on.”
“Oh: it’s going beep and now it’s ready!”
Lola, although certainly developing a streak of wilfulness and the
tendancy to begin any decision-making process by snapping, “No” and
turning her head fully to the left-stop and giving a good pout, seems to
have been in a perpetual good mood for the last six months.
She chatters, plays, sings, cuddles from morning till night. She does
lovely little intricate drawings. And she auto-magically potty-trained
herself.