“Sooooorry.” Three-year-old me put my hands on my hips. I was standing, feet planted, just inside my bedroom door.
“What do you mean, ‘Sorry’?” asked my Nana.
“You can’t sleep here.”
“I can’t?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Sooooorry.” Three-year-old me put my hands on my hips. I was standing, feet planted, just inside my bedroom door.
“What do you mean, ‘Sorry’?” asked my Nana.
“You can’t sleep here.”
“I can’t?”
“No.”
“Why not?”