Caleb and I have a game. It's called 'Food'. I chase him around pretending to eat his toes, but never quite catching him, while he runs away giggling. We have rhyme which goes with it:
I like toes for breakfast
I like toes for tea
I like toes for supper
So bring those toes here to me
Toes go nicely with sausages
Toes go well with chips
And when I taste that crunch in my cornflakes
I know I'm eating your tips
Well, it's pretty mediocre poetry, but he loves it and so do I...
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