Sitting in an emergency clinic with what was either a trapped nerve or acute arthritis in my right hand, I was distracted and cheered by a little blonde curly-haired toddler girl in her pushchair waiting to see the Doctor with her mum.
She suddenly upped in her straps and pointed to each numbered door in the waiting room, saying and matching the numbers "One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven.... " and then looking round with puzzlement and saying "Where's Eight? Oh there it is" (behind her). She then proceeded to count up to thirty with a big smile on her little face.
I asked her mum "how old is she?"
"Just turned three"
"She's very bright isn't she?"
At which the toddler said "me?"
"Yes" I said "you're a very clever girl".
"I am clever" she agreed with a tone of satisfaction.
She then went quiet for about a minute, then announced to the amusement of everyone in the waiting room:
"Oops. I farted"
"Now don't be cheeky" said her mum"
"Oops! Oh Pardon Me".
She kept this funny chatter going until they were called through to the surgery.
It was well worth having a sore hand just to experience this bright and comical little child.
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