Another classic Isabelism

We went to a lovely birthday party this afternoon for the three year old daughter of a friend of ours.  One of the reasons we enjoyed the party so much was because there were only 4 children there - the birthday girl (aged 3 tomorrow), her two girl cousins (aged 6 and 4 respectively), and Isabel, also aged 4.  This is the perfect number of kids at a party from Isabel's perspective - enough people to play with, but not too many to make it hectic.  They played Pass the Parcel, Simon Says, Pin the Tail on the Donkey (updated to become "Place the Sticky Horn on the Unicorn Poster" - maybe health and safety regulations now state that blindfolding small children and allowing them to walk around with a pin might not be such a good idea!) and other party classics such as blowing bubbles in the garden.  They all got on well, and played nicely together, and a general air of warmth and fun was felt by all.

The classic Isabelism to which I refer came about over the birthday tea.  Isabel tucked in with gusto, which surprised me somewhat since we'd had some lunch before we left (nothing worse than sending a hungry child to a party, never a recipe for success in my experience). Anyway, it was all good stuff, breadsticks and dips and carrots and suchlike, and then they all played some more before it was time for cake.  The cake was a delicious chocolate creation complete with little marzipan animals for all the kids, but I think Isabel found it a little rich (not me, I munched down a goodly slice - eating for two you understand....).  Anyway, she ate a couple of mouthfuls, clearly not too keen, and then turned to me and said "Mummy, can I have some pork pie with my cake?" - and then proceeded to eat a whole pork pie, and left all the rest of the cake.  Freak -could we really be related?  

Later in the afternoon she came up with another lovely phrase - the parents of the birthday girl have a very cute dog who was terribly excited to see all the girls, junped up and down all over them, causing Isabel to cry in anguish, "I don't want Sammy all over my party dress, I'm going to go home covered in dog teeth!".  Hey, she could always have distracted him with a pork pie if she hadn't already guzzled the whole thing.