Keeping a distant eye on two granddaughters yesterday. The older one, 10, dressed in an immaculate white party dress and gum boots, followed everywhere by her adoring half-sister, four today, dressed in ordinary sandals, spent part of the day watching awful American children's TV and the rest of it playing with water in the sea of mud behind the house. Amazingly, they didn't get muddy. At one point I spotted the four-year-old, still a bit top-heavy, walking along the top of a smallish oak tree felled across a deep ditch with water flowing down it, a five or six-foot drop in the middle. I bawled yobbishly that that wasn't a good idea, and the nipper turned round and walked back.
They are biddable at that age. Not for long though. The older sister is winsome, talented, kind-hearted and quite often extremely naughty. She can look you in the eye and coolly utter the most outrageous porkies and inventions.
I quite like children these days. Strangely, because I didn't like them much when I was one.
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