Monday 29 March 2004

Swindled By My Daughter

R* was in bed. I came into her room after putting K* to bed.

R*: Where is mummy going?
Me: What? She's downstairs.
R*: I don't think so. I bet she isn't.
Me: Ok, bet £10 she is.
R*: Umm. I bet £5
M: All right, £5

She gets up and we go downstairs. Sure enough, Jenny isn't at home and R* is giggling away. She wants her winnings deposited in her account. When Jenny comes home, I learn that R* actually waved good-bye to her as she left. I'm going to stop teaching an eight year old about betting!

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