The Doodle celebrated her third birthday earlier this month, and one of the gifts she received from us was a set of play food. It had an abundance of grapes in among the other produce, so I was amusing myself teaching her varietals according to the bunch sizes and colours.
"This one's pinot noir. PEE-NO NWAR. Can you say that?"
"You're silly, Mummy."
"So what are you going to make with all those grapes? Are you going to make some wine for Mummy?"
A puzzled look. "Why is wine, Mummy?"
Equally dumbfounded look on my end. Why, indeed. Was her question really supposed to be what is wine? Or why is it called wine? Was it spelled with a "Y"? Or was she going completely metaphysical on me, questioning the place of wine in the universe? How on earth would I answer that one?
"Because it is, sweetheart. And that's good."
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