‘Seriously? You want me to read Dear Zoo again?’ I stole a look at my watch. Eight o’clock. On a Saturday. I should be out getting drunk. I’m never volunteering for anything again. Stupid neighbours can do a better job of sorting out a babysitter in future.
‘I’ve just read it to you seven times in a row.’ Who’d have thought two year old girls could be so difficult? Not that I know much about two year old girls. ‘Why don’t we mix it up? What about The Very Hungry Caterpillar? I can see it on your shelf and I hear it’s good.’
‘Oh God. Don’t get me wrong kid, Dear Zoo, is a bloody good book.‘ Damn, I need to watch my language. ‘It really is. The plot. The character development. And the ending is right up there with The Sixth Sense. You’re probably too young to have seen that.’ What do two year old girls watch? ‘But please can we go for something else?’
‘Fine. Here we go… Dear Zoo. I wrote to the zoo to send me a pet and they sent me an…’
‘Wow kid, how did you guess?’