Getting It Wrong

MonkeyBoy and I have a bedtime ritual - after his regular story, we lie down together and I tell him a story "from my mouf". Which means he tells me what the story's about, and I pad it with adjectives and meaningless intensifiers. For the last few weeks, the plots have all revolved around small robots playing, then being eaten by giant robots, then escaping. The variables are the colour of the ingested robot and the means of escape. So tonight, my assignment was identical to last night's ("tell me about when the orange robot was eaten and escaped on his motorcycle"), except for this:

"But don't do the part you did last night, because that was wrong. And incorrect."

Not even four and already he's a critic.

I don't think we'll be taking him to Hitchhiker's Guide, even if he reads the book first.