I've borrowed one of the six children who live upstairs (sounds like a nursery rhyme, doesn't it? Or a threat) so that Only Child can have a bit of company that isn't me and so that I can have a break from playing the role of 'Foxy' to her 'Trixie' (I don't mind being Foxy, it's just that I'd rather act the part with someone else, know what I mean?).
I took them up the woods, where one wanted to climb trees and the other didn't or one preferred to run while the other was adamant that she would rather walk or one hid in the bushes while the other was scared of the witches in all that darkness.
"Let's go to the Magic Garden!" I enthused.
"No," said one. "Yes, please," said the other.
Because I'm the biggest, I made the decision for us and we headed to the Magic Garden but halfway there, both girls insisted that she wanted to go home instead of catching butterflies, finding fairies and climbing stone piles.