The purpose of play

Malli sits on a small purple box. Nigel stands in front of her, bending at the waist so as to peer into her open mouth. He taps on her teeth with the red vinyl-coated baby spoon in his hand.

“What are you doing, guys?”

“I am opening my mouff for Nigel.” I turn to Nigel for elucidation.

“I am being a dentist.”

Ah. Nigel was at the dentist last week, so of course, being a toddler, he’s going to practice reality, decode the experience, play with it until he understands it.

“I’m cleaning Malli’s teeth.”

“What does Malli have to do?”

“She has to open her mouth and don’t bite and then I will give her a toy. But she has to don’t bite. That’s very important.”

“What happens if she bites?”

“Then the dentist stands up and rubs his hand and says “No biting” and maybe you won’t get a toy and maybe he will put a thing in between my teeth so no biting.”

Hmmm. The play/reality line’s a bit smudged here. I think Dr. Nigel’s Dentist may have had a teeny mishap last week.