Since turning six, Flea has become much cleverer.
This isn't just my motherly bias talking – I know that Flea knows a lot of stuff because she tells me so.
All. The. Time.
A typical example of the sort of conversation we're having 20 times a day at the moment:
Me: “Flea, watch out for that step darling, it’s a bit loose.”
Flea: “Yes Mummy, I already know.”
She’s a stickler for accuracy, my daughter:
Me: “Do you want to go to bed now, I’ve asked you four times.”
Flea: “Actually Mummy, you are mistaken because it has only been three times.”
And my personal favourite, in a business meeting:
Client: “Your Mummy is very clever isn’t she?”
Flea: “Well, she threw my toothbrush charger in the bin because she didn’t know what it was.”
Oh yes. Flea knows it all. And then some.
On the basis that Little Miss Know It All is bugging the holy heck out of me, I’ve been trying to get Flea to understand about manners, and how it’s kinder sometimes – even if you DO know stuff – to just let it slide.
So we were in the car driving home from London this week when I shared some piece of information to get the – by now familiar – response of, “Yes, Mummy, I know.”
I opened my mouth to remind Flea about how this isn’t a kind way to talk to Mummy but this was a waste of time because Flea (being all-knowing) already knew what I was about to say.
Which is why before I could get a word out, she hastily added: “I did know, obviously, but it was very kind of you to tell me anyway, Mummy.” And with a little smile in my direction, she added. "Thanks for that."
So now we don’t just have to deal with Little Miss Know-All. We’re also hosting Little Miss Condescending.
Brilliant.
