A lion? No, a tiger

He was walking semi-crouched back from nursery, making raaah! noises. I asked him if he was being a lion. He stopped, looked up at me, said ‘no, tiger’, then went on waddling and roaring.
I am astounded at his ability to not only imagine, but communicate that he won’t alter his imagination in the face of what was, let’s face it, a stupid suggestion. How could i mistake a tiger for a lion? Lucky i didn’t suggest dinosaur, or i’d still be smarting from his contemptuous glare. I hope Claire and I can help him maintain this rich inner life against the forces that will try to hammer conformity into him.


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