It was bath time. I had run out of food suggestions for Gertie to mix up for me. Spaghetti bolognese, chocolate mousse, salmon pasta, a cup of tea had each been presented as a bubble-filled boat at which I was expected to slurp and make appreciative noises towards.
Suddenly the game changed. My beloved bath pillow was upturned and became some kind of gaming board. "What game would you like to play, Mummy? Fuzzy felt?"
"No, I'd like to play chess," I revealed, thinking this might floor her and we might make an earlier exit from the bath.
"How do you play chess?"
"We-ll; you have different types of pieces that you move across the board whilst trying to get the other person's king."
"Oh." She pondered my description for a moment. "Does it have ducks in?" she asked, waving a yellow plastic bath duck at me hopefully.
"Well it does now. We're going to play 'Duck Chess'.
Ah. The impeccable logic of the three year old mind. Duck Chess. Of course.
I didn't win. The rules are quite complicated and known only to my daughter.