Oh to be a child again. 

I love that children can stare at people quite openly without being asked "what are you looking at?" or "do I know you?"

I love that they try to be sneaky about things, when you clearly know what they are doing.  My son hasn’t yet worked out why I always know he is trying to sneak ‘goods’ like chocolate biscuits out of the kitchen.  It has something to do with the hands being held in a funny way at his side, away from me and that half twist of the body.

I love the way my children can tell me quite innocently that they have drawn me a picture, but you just know from the way they’ve said it, that it’s not on paper. 

This happened recently and the big give away was that my daughter had used mascara all over her eyebrows and lip gloss, well . . . just all over her face.  I found a lovely ‘abstract’ painting in lip gloss on my living room door. 

I love that in particular scenarios if they hurt themselves they just shrug it off.  We went out for a lovely family meal once and sat at this huge square table that was big enough for the children to hide under. 

My son really banged his head on the table (despite us having said several times, be careful).  He just popped his head up over the table top, laughing and said "It’s okay, I’m not hurt" and carried on playing.

I love that they can laugh out loud at slapstick comedy.  The Chuckle Brothers are a big hit in our house.  So too is Laurel and Hardy.

I just love the innocence of their questions.  My son who is of junior school age came home once and asked me "is f**k, a rude word mommy?"

When do we pass that age and become the cynical grown ups, who still want to do all these things but feel we shouldn’t?