Its sunday afternoon. Post lunch. My niece, all of three years old, decides that it is the perfect time to tell me a story.

Riya: I will tell you a story

Me: Ok

Riya: Once there was a cat and a monkey. They were standing on top

Me: Of what?

Riya: Shhh! She decided to hit everybody

Me: Who?

Riya: How many questions you ask baba? It has to be a cat only no? How can a monkey hit?

Me: oohh (people, the logic was irrefutable!)

Riya: So she hit everyone. Wait! You want one story or four stories? I will tell you four stories. Ok? So the cat then ate a chapati. It was on the floor. So the monkey laughed.

Me: (thinking to myself—this is going to be a long afternoon)

Riya: So then it rained and they all got wet. And then the rain stopped and they did not get wet for a while. But the it started raining again and they again got wet.

At this point it had started raining outside. The receptive faculty of her creative brain continues to astound me!

Riya: After that they…I will sleep now.

Me: But. But, what about the story?

Riya: How many questions you ask baba?

She then proceeded to scramble out of the room to search for someone who’d ask lesser questions I guess—her Mum.