Galloping grass

Ella: I’m going to tell a story, mum. It’s gonna be a good story. Do you want to hear my story?
Me: I would love to hear your story.
Ella: It’s a story about animals.
There’s a cow [holds up one finger].
The cow runs away from the grass [holds up a second finger]. The grass is chasing the cow.
Me: Err… I did not know that grass could run? It doesn’t have legs?
Ella: Ye-eah. The grass can hop and run and the grass is chasing the cow.

I love the way my daughter’s limited grasp on language (any language – she’s bilingual English-Dutch) can stimulate my own imagination. How cool is it to be confronted at the dinner table with this image of a panicky cow (most likely under the influence of some hallucinogenic drug or – as as colleague suggested – with a severe grass allergy) galloping away with a patch of prime turf on tiny little feet in close pursuit. Who needs mind expanding drugs when you have a 2yo to fill your mind with psychedelic images at no expense?

It took me quite a bit of associative thinking to figure out that she meant a ‘grasshopper’.

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