Whilst sitting eating fajitas with the kids tonight I asked my youngest (she’s 4) what she’d been up to.  Here is what she told me:

“Well, when I was little I forgot my lunchbox so I made myself a sandwich. Out of onion. My teacher cut it for me and I had an onion sandwich”

The Key Ingredient in an Onion Onion Sandwich

“What, onion in onion?”

“Yes. And then I went to my friends field and got some daffodils and put them in a wine bottle”

“That’s nice, did you pick them yourself?”

“No, I chopped them and put them in a bin with the wine bottle. Then it made wine and I drank the wine. It tasted like onions.”

“Errr, OK….”

“And then I put the bin on my head and walked around banging in to everything. So my teacher bought me home in her car. But we didn’t have any of these tortilla things so I ran to the CoOp and saw the Book Man. Then I opened them with a knife. A childrens knife.”

“Righhhtt….”

“And I rushed home and got in my teachers car and zoomed to play school”

The Size of the Dead Monkey

“What happened to the Book Man?”

“He jumped in his van and drove from the Post Office to my school”

“How does this story end, darling”

“Well, I went to Twycross Zoo on a school trip and we saw a baby monkey”

“Ahhh”

“And it got killed because a big monkey stamped on it and punched it and then the big one stuck its tongue out

“Ohhhh”

“It was this big. I’m full up”

And that was that.

I’m not sure if that was fabrication, premonition, nightmare or hallucination but she seemed very convinced when she told me the story and was very particular about the details when she was repeating it to my wife 5 minutes later.

Mrs G then pointed out that she had been making the story up whist looking at things around her: fajita’s, daffodils, books, stuffed monkeys… a lot like master criminal Keyser Soze in The Usual Suspects.

If you managed to spot any bits of truth in there, well done!