Mummy humours my dozen requests a day to, ‘Tell story of how Trike went to scrapyard.’. I then intervene on her story telling with frequent direction to ensure the story is told to my liking.
‘Trike went to the scrapyard [the trampoline] having lost numerous races and was just about to be turned into scrap plastic when a little girl, called Charlotte, saved the day. She bought Trike and restored it to its former glory and now races down the biggest grass hills in the neighbourhood at an award winning pace (any tumbles off Trike are merely ‘cool stunts’, but bruises and cuts don’t like to be washed, so Charlotte parades around in proud racing driver muck, whilst Trike ‘insists’ on a daily scrub down). Charlotte and Trike live happily ever after (but Trike doesn’t like to be left alone, so often sleeps at the foot of Charlotte’s bed). THE END’
When Trike isn’t featuring in a story then it is often hungry. I tell Mummy how Trike is feeling all the time (I think she sometimes listens more when I tell her about Trike, so tend to send my own messages through Trike). Trike doesn’t like to be left alone. Trike doesn’t like school. Trike wants Mummy to teach it. Trike likes to be washed, daily, but doesn’t like having it’s hair washed (thankfully it doesn’t have any). Trike is sometimes scared of my little sister, Sophie, as she likes to climb on it. Trike is 3 and a half and likes Birthdays and presents. I bought Sophie a toy ‘MP3‘ for Christmas, but I want her to share it with Trike.