Shock-ed

We decide to play a game to help pass time during the car journey. Three adults, myself included, start to think of possibilities but in the back of the car my niece, Ishbel (10 years old) and my nephew, Peter (7 years old) insist on a variation of charades whereby we each have to think of an animal and then give the first letter of that animal to the others for them to guess. The game probably has a real name, but if so I cannot think of it now for the life of me. It’s not the game I would have chosen, but I know from experience that refusal to play will result in tantrums – I really want to avoid tantrums.

Peter insists on going first. So does Ishbel, but surprisingly she capitulates very quickly in the face of Peter’s mounting objections and I turn round to see a strangely self-satisfied smile on her face. ‘Okay then. You go first,’ she spits in a feigned ‘huff’, crossing her arms and throwing herself forcefully back into her seat. She pouts for effect but I can still see the smile around her eyes.

‘T,’ announces Peter loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

There is a moments silence whilst the adults wait for Ishbel to make the first guess. As adults it seems the best thing to do and strangely we all seem to arrive at this conclusion without the need for discussion. I love it when things like that happen.

She looks at each of us in turn, making sure that none of us is about to answer. Then, without the slightest hint of embarrassment, she says, ‘Trouser Snake.’

Peter nods. ‘Yup.,’ he says with a broad grin. I almost choke as I stifle my laughter.

Ishbel shakes her head slowly. ‘He ALWAYS says Trouser Snake,’ she explains ruefully whilst I ponder if she, and Peter, know what a trouser snake actually is. Their mother, driving the car, can be heard sniggering faintly at the wheel.