The boys of Norwood are dinosaur-mad. "Dinos," they call them.
I try to support this craze by purchasing every tiny, inexpensive twelve-pack of dinosaur toys I can find.
Recently, wee Nolan, but three years old, was displaying to me many of the dinos he had purloined from my toy basket. I asked their names, as is my wont. To my surprise, rather than loudly asserting that animals have no names, and telling me "You're driving me crazy," as is his wont, instead, he pointed to each in turn.
"This is Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky and Ducky."
I suggested that Cocoa is also a good name.
He pointed again. "This is Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, and Cocoa."
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