A-r-t-i-c-u-l-a-t-e

Daniel speaks exceptionally clearly and quite loudly. Grown-ups always understand him. This has its drawbacks.

The other day Mr. Waffle met a little old lady who chucked Daniel under the chin. To his father’s mortification, he said to her clearly and reproachfully, “You hurted me.”

Shortly afterwards I was cycling with Daniel in our edgy/urban/ rough (delete as appropriate) neighbourhood and saw two small children (maybe 3 and 18 months) playing on the main road. A quiet main road but certainly a main road. As I toiled up the hill , they fell over together and lay spread out and bawling. I stopped the bike, took Daniel off, went over, took them off the road, dusted them down, made comforting noises and asked, “Where are your Mummy and Daddy?” No very coherent answer was made but shortly a large man came around the corner and grabbed them roughly. I made bleating “no harm done they seem to be fine” type noises. He was joined by his partner. Both of them seemed slightly out of it and they yelled at the children (who ignored them – a constant across socio-economic groups, apparently). At no point did either of them address me. I mounted my trusty steed and peddled slowly off (it was hilly). Daniel, speaking loudly and, of course, clearly said from his perch behind “Mummy those people were very rude, they didn’t answer you when you spoke to them.” I pedalled more quickly.