Saturday, January 21, 2012

my daughter, my daughter

Olivia comes home from next door, leaving her brother and friend to watch Nanny Mc Phee. She likes it not.

She had a fever yesterday, and is still a bit under-the-weather. ON the way back in she complains of chest pains - because her little friend, who plays Black Ops with her Dad (hmmm) said something that upset her. They were watching a cartoon, Olivia asked what one character was doing, and Little Friend replied 'he's jumping up and down on his chest to try and break all his ribs and kill him'. Olivia's response to stories of physical violence are very physical at the moment - she got a stomach ache after I told her waht stomach pumping was, for example. This lovely slice of graphic info upset her to the point of tears, despite all her own appreciation of horror and gore. It's a strange conundrum.

Ten minutes later she asks me for my ipod, and tells me of an app you can download called 'Don't Kill the Puppy', where tanks and things try to kill a ... puppy... and you maneuver it to and fro out of the way.

Strange little girl. 


Ms. Moon said...

She may grow up to be another Tim Burton. We shall keep our eyes on her.

Jo said...

I'm still thinking Stephen King, Mary.