My three-year old claimed to have seen a crocodile on the bed next to him when he woke up.
“Was the crocodile awake or asleep?”, I asked.
“It had one eye open and one closed”, he replied, screwing up his eyes to show me how.
“But I can’t see any crocodile here”, I persisted. “Are you quite sure the crocodile was here?”
“Yes. The crocodile was here”, he insisted, patting his pillow to show we where it had been resting its head. “But now it has gone away.”
“Where has it gone?” I was warming up to the game.
“It has gone to the other room. And it is eating all the toys. All my toys. And my brother’s too.”
“That is very bad of the crocodile”, I played along. “Now, what do we do?”
“Let’s eat up the crocodile.”
“We can’t eat a crocodile. It is so big, and it may not even taste good.”
“Then let us eat the crocodile fruit!”
He meant a pineapple – according to the kids pineapples and crocodiles are the same because they have similar ‘thorns’.
I wonder if he made it all up as he went along, or if it has just been an elaborate way of saying he wanted pineapple for dessert? Knowing him, either is possible.