Translator

Now look, it's not like I agree with bribing kids, and especially not with biscuits (which, in any case, we don't usually have in the house), but Ella's 5.30 cock-a-doodle-doo was getting a bit much, so on Thursday we converted her cotbed into a bed and after two consecutive evenings of lessons on what to do in the morning that doesn't involve waking mummy and daddy up, she's finally cracked it and gave us an extra forty minutes in bed this morning.

"I'm so proud of you" I said, pulling on some trousers at ten past six, "what a good girl"

"I'm a good girl can have chocolate" she replied, which made me laugh so much I gave her a McVities chocolate digestive.

And then it was on to the morning's business; toast with vegemite and a webcam to nana and then crayons.

"Draw a bass" she ordered, thrusting a red crayon at me

"A bash?"

"A bass"

"A bath? okay, I'll put it over here"

I began drawing a bath in the corner of the page.

"No!" she protested. Then she thought for a moment and hesitated.

"A bus"

After almost nine months down under, Ella speaks both Australian and English. If you need a translator, you know where to come.