My 18-month-old daughter has fallen in love with a wooden flower. Last night, as I was reading Amelia a bedtime story, she sat happily in my lap, cradling her beloved orange tulip as she listened to the tale.
The first thing Amelia does when she wakes up in the morning is hunt for her flower. When Flower is unearthed from the rubble under which it is frequently buried, Amelia brings Flower to me for a quick sniff. Whilst extremely proud that my daughter understands that flowers smell pretty, sniffing a wooden flower again and again , other than utterly bizarre, becomes a tad… tedious.
My Amelia has translated the signs of love, ‘kisses and cuddles’ to kisses and head-butts (don’t ask because I have no answer). These most precious of gestures are reserved for items of great worth; food, teddies, pictures in books (especially pictures of teddies, which are rewarded with lovely kisses), other children, sometimes her parents and definitely her uncle – pretty much anything for which she feels great fondness – and Flower has received many a kiss and a cuddle.
Perhaps I am raising a horticulturalist? Or more likely a ‘tree-hugger’…