At the end of my grandson's second birthday party at the weekend there was just a slice of cake left. He was sat on daddy's lap and had a small piece while we, and some lingering guests discussed politics. His mummy approached and there was a parenting discussion about his being tired, his dinner of lentils and veg being due, etc etc. All carried out above the little one's head. When a determined voice spoke up.
"No dinner. Cake."
We all laughed, out voted mummy, and he had the last bit of his birthday cake with great delight all round.
Probably was too much icing and colouring - two hours later still going like a mad Duracell bunny!!
Next morning he and daddy visited us in the guest bedroom where we had tea and our library books out for 15 mins of reading before getting up. "What is this? " asked my hard working London city high flyer son. In unison, please: