Four-year-olds take everything literally. And they have no sense of time whatsoever. If you tell them, "We'll do it tomorrow," they'll spend all day asking you if it's tomorrow yet. That's why I don't understand whose bright idea it was to put cartoons about the British Invasion on the television for preschool viewers.
I spent much of my young life in mortal fear of Redcoats. I just knew that, any day now, British soldiers were going to show up at the front door, grab me and take me away to parts unknown. What use I thought they'd have with a 4-year-old, I don't know.
I lost a lot of sleep over that particular worry.
Other worries that kept me awake at night were the fate of poor old Don Gato and his solar plexus, and whether I was murdering countles Whos by stepping on dust specks.
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