17 17 ‘Would you like me to read to you?’ asked a small girl, with wide, co rnflower-blue ey es and a mass of blonde hair which was gathered in two large candyfloss bunches.
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘I would like that very much.’
‘I’m a very good reader, you know,’ she confided in me, while she searched in her bag for her book.
Are you?’
‘I read with expression.’
‘Do you?’
And I can do different voices.’
‘Really? I expect you use dramatic pauses as well,’ I said mischievously.
She looked up for a moment and then added seriously, ‘I don’t know what they are, but I probably can.’
She was indeed a very accomplished little reader and sailed through her book confidently and fluently. ‘I am good, aren’t I?’ she announced when she had completed three pages.
‘Very good,’ I said.
‘I’m good at writing as well.’
‘I imagined you would be.’
‘Would you like to see my writing?’
‘I’d love to.’
‘Poetry or prose?’
‘Poetry, please.’
‘I keep my poems in a portfolio.’
‘I guessed you would,’ I said, smiling.
Her writing was neat, imaginative and accurate. ‘I am good at writing, aren’t I?’
‘Very good,’ I agreed.
‘I’m good at talking as well.’
‘I can tell that. I think your mummy’s got a little chatterbox at home.’
‘Oh, no!’ exclaimed the child. ‘My granny has asthma and I’m not allowed to keep pets.’
‘I see,’ I said, chuckling. I couldn’t imagine what sort of animal she thought a ‘little chatterbox’ was.
‘My granny calls me her “bright little button”.’
‘That’s a lovely name,’ I told her. ‘They’re very special, are grannies, and we must really look after them.’
‘My granny wobbles, you know,’ the little chatterbox continued.
‘Does she?’
‘She has a special disease which makes her wobble and forget things.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Yes,’ said the little girl, nodding sagely. ‘It’s called “Old Timers’ Disease”.’
I chuckled.
‘Why are you laughing?’ she said, her little brow furrowing. ‘It’s not funny, you know, having “Old Timers’ Disease”.’
‘Indeed, it’s not,’ I told the child and thinking to myself that when I’m feeble, old and grey, I would like my children to say that their father has got ‘Old Timers’ Disease’. It sounds much more friendly and humane than Alzheimer’s Disease.
