Ever since BL read Milly-Molly-Mandy stories, she has loved thatched cottages. When we go on a car journey, she spots thatched cottages as we pass them. Gleefully. Imagine her joy when she discovered that we would be staying, on holiday, in a thatched cottage. She talked of little else.
On the way down, she went quiet for a while. A sure sign that she is thinking things through… or she has fallen asleep. Then out comes the question. She has obviously been mulling over thatch roofs on rainy days and now she is worried. Will she get wet in bed if it rains at night?
I misunderstood her at first and thought she was remembering the M-M-M story (“Milly Molly Mandy helps to thatch a roof”) about the thatch being blown off the house. I assured her that it was not going to blow away during our visit.
It turns out that she saw the thatch as more decorative than a substitute for roof tiles. She could not see how it would protect us from the elements. She thought that we would be able to lie in bed, look up and see a thin layer of thatch, with the moonlight streaming through.
Imagine her relief when she realised that the thatch is thick and tightly packed. Plus there was a ceiling between us and the straw.
There are times I just plain forget. She is five. This is all new to her. Why would she know? It was her first time sleeping in a thatched cottage. Come to think about it, I think it might have been mine too.