One of the things that we brought back from France after my mum died was a collection of my primary school exercise books.
I spent a very happy hour last night reading my diary entries from when I was five and six years old. Even in my most formative years I was evidently completely devoid of creative imagination, preferring instead to make precise, economical and factual statements.
My favourite entry simply says 'I have two felt pens.'
Assiduous Quinquireme readers would be justified in thinking that not much has changed.