While driving to lunch on Saturday, I was quizzed about politics by my five-year-old.
She’d spotted one of those campaigning vehicles, and then heard the tannoy blast out opinions on who to vote for.
I then got all the questions you’d expect –and a few I didn’t.
To be honest, while I would always encourage my little girl to raise the questions that are on her mind, I was a bit surprised the whole thing seemed to have captured her imagination.
I had just told her that a real princess had been born, for goodness sake, and was prepared for the questions about the royal baby, the royal family and kings and queens.
Surely, to any little girl, and to most adults, royalty is infinitely more interesting than politics.
But, instead, I was racking my brains for answers to the following: “What does the prime minister do?”, “why do they get to make all the decisions”, “why do people want to decide about a party?”, “do children get to go to the party even though it’s for adults?”
Over lunch, though, I saw her little cogs turning again, and I finally got my royal baby question.
“So the princess has come out her mummy’s tummy?”
“But when did she go into her mummy’s tummy?”
“Eh, don’t know, sorry.”
When you see the way a line of questioning is going, the sensible parent should always take charge and subtly guide it in another direction so to avoid any unnecessary awkwardness.
“So, how did the princess get in her mummy’s tummy?”
“Don’t know, right, anyway, so there’s a man called David Cameron.....”