Anyone who has the pleasure of little people in their lives has hundreds of these but I'd like to share a recent one of mine.
We got a call from my sister this week that has a 6-month-old son and a five-year-old daughter, the latter of which started "big school" this summer. She was sat playing quietly (my niece that is) when she was overheard singing a sweet little song about baby Jesus.
"That sounds like a nice song" my sister commented, "Where did you learn that?"
"We're learning it for our nativity play. It's all about a little baby called Jesus who was born in a stable" the little one replied.
"Who else is in this play?" she continued to question
"There's her Mum, she's called Mary, and there's shepherds and three kings"
"So who's Joseph then"?
"Joseph is a little boy in my class"
By means of revenge on my niece's behalf, I was reminded tonight of a conversation many years ago when my sister was probably around the same age.
My Mum hails from a little village in Cornwall where just about everybody knew everybody, and on this particular occasion, we had just received a phone call from one of my aunts to let us know that an "old dear" from the village had just passed away.
Mum came off the phone and announced to us all that Mrs so-and-so had just died and although these occasions are always sad, she was fast approaching three figures in age, so it hadn't come as a great surprise to anybody.
"What did she die of?” Dad asked
"The big C" replied mum trying to be euphemistically tactful to which my dear little sister added "What, did she drown?
...aww, bless
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