Little girls are made from sugar and spice and all things nice, apparently.
Not so.
Not on the case of my 'delightful' daughter anyway.
Take this afternoon, for example. She is outside playing on her bike. I am inside enjoying a blissful five-minutes of much-needed peace and quiet, when she suddenly announces,
"Mummy, I've found a bug. Don't worry I've 'deaded' it, it's completely dead, it's head has come right off!"
And she sounds absolutely delighted with the killing.
I am shocked, but it gets worse when she adds,
"I'm going to run it over with my bike now."
I have created a monster.
