Last night my little granddaughter Rhiannon (aka Snowdrop) stayed overnight. At bedtime I read her a couple of Beatrix Potter stories. The first one was well received which is when she slipped the second book into my hand. 

The second book was the story of a mother cat with three kittens who is expecting company for tea and so cleans up her kittens, dresses them in clean clothes and then sends them into the garden to play while she gets the tea ready. But once the kittens are in the garden they get their clothes dirty and end up taking them off after which they are pinched by the ducks who initially wear them and then discard them in the water.

When the kittens returned to their Mother she “smacked them all and sent them to bed”; as I read that bit I thought ‘Sh*t I hope that doesn’t instigate a conversation on the ins and outs of smacking children’. Very slowly I moved my head to look at my little cherub to see if a response was going to be forthcoming; it was quite a relief to see her eyes closed and her on the way to dreamland.


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