Out of the mouths of babes....

We looked after my three and a half year old grand daughter at the weekend and had to go shopping, so took her round the supermarket with us. Ruby likes the supermarket and especially likes going in the trolley, although prefers to stand rather than sit in the kiddie seat and commentates loudly on everything as we go round.

She also likes to be able to reach out and grab what she likes and has an eagle eye for anything with Peppa Pig or Dora the Explorer on it, from napkins to novelty crisps.

The supermarket is very crowded on a Saturday, usually with elderly people who have all week to do their shopping but choose to clutter up the shops and get in the way of the rest of us on Saturdays and Sundays. They are slow, stop unexpectedly and spread themselves across the aisles with gay abandon.

Anyway, we are going round doing our shopping, with Ruby saying every time I put something in the trolley "Over there Nanny, don't bury me". We are walking up the bread aisle at a reasonable pace and she is at this point standing at the front of the trolley like Kate Winslet at the bow of the ship in Titanic. In front of us is a rather tubby middle aged couple debating the merits of granary versus sliced white, with their trolley at right angles to the shelves. Suddenly, in a penetrating voice which must have been heard outside on the other side of the car park, I hear Ruby scream "Wait, Nanny, wait. That fat man is in the way. 'Scuse me, fat man".

I don't know how I stifled the urge to squeal with laughter, but somehow I did. Muttering "Excuse me" as the startled couple made way and everyone else looked round, I scuttled past at record speed to find The Hubby in the next aisle choosing breakfast cereal, where between snorts of amusement I relayed the story to him. I know I should have told her off, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to - he was fat, and he was in the way, and to be honest I wish I was allowed to say things like that with such frankness.

Only small children can get away with it, more's the pity, and the old saying "Out of the mouths of babes" couldn't be more true. There are many times when I wish I could just say something honest instead of skirting round awkward subjects or telling white lies, as it's all so much effort to remember what you have said if it isn't the truth. And the tragic thing is I can lie with remarkable skill and retention if I need to, but I never want to (well, very rarely). How many times has a friend said to you "Does my bum look big in this" (or the equivalent for another part of their anatomy), and after a suitable pause you have said "No, of course not" when really of course it does. Also quite common is "Do you like this dress/skirt/top/whatever" when it's actually perfectly hideous but you say quickly "Yes, lovely". Similarly, I wish I could manage my staff like Alan Sugar in the Apprentice (does anyone else think it was better when they could say 'yes, Suralan' instead of as now 'yes, Lord Sugar'?). It would be wonderful to be able to sit opposite a cretinous member of staff who is playing up and say to them "Shut it, you idiot, I don't want to hear any more from you. You're fired".

Small children are remarkably honest about anything you discuss with them, particularly your appearance. It really is very refreshing. Sadly, very soon society will knock it out of them and they will become as two faced and repressed as the rest of us. It's such a shame.