A COUPLE of weeks have passed since she turned six, and our little granddaughter, Chloe, had exciting news to tell as she ran across the playground after school, waving something in her hand.

“Daddy, Daddy, guess what – I’m on the School Council! I’m on the School Council!” she announced breathlessly, giving him a closer look at the shiny, dark green metal badge she’d been given to wear as proof of her success.

She went on to explain that she and her friend, Emily, had been elected by their classmates to be the Year 1 representatives on the very important body that helps make decisions about school life.

Just then, our next-door neighbours’ grandson, George, trotted over to offer his hearty congratulations, and to let her know that he’d been elected to represent Year 6.

“Well done on making the School Council, Chloe – we’ll be on it together!” he told her, kindly.

Imagine if democracy was always managed with such respect and decorum - wouldn’t that be a refreshing change?

Anyway, the most pressing matter for discussion at the forthcoming inaugural meeting of the School Council is to decide how to support Children in Need this year.

Chloe’s pledged to give this agenda item a lot of thought between now and the meeting but, in the meantime, she’s been far too busy, spreading the word about her appointment, with video calls to all her aunties and uncles to show off her badge.

And, worryingly, there are signs that the power might already be starting to go to her head. For example, the morning after the election, she climbed into her parents’ bed, still gazing proudly at her badge, and eager to talk about her new role.

“Did you remember I’m on the School Council?” she asked, before adding: “Can I have a cuddle, Daddy?”

“Yes, Chloe, but I just need to pop to the toilet for a quick wee,” he replied, sleepily.

“Sorry, Daddy, but you need to get permission from the School Council for that,” she sniggered. “You’ll need to fill in a form…but I’m afraid it might not be ready until February.”

“FEBRUARY? I CAN’T WAIT THREE MONTHS FOR A WEE!” exclaimed Daddy, breaking free and heading to the toilet, in a sudden display of civil disobedience.

And it hasn’t stopped there. The next day, Chloe asked if she could have an ice lolly before explaining with a cheeky smile: “I need to check it for poison – it’s my job because I’m on the School Council now.”

Daddy has even been ordered to “scratch the School Councillor’s back”, such is the abuse of power that has risen to the surface all too quickly.

And now, it’s spread to our house. When I said I was going to the fish and chip shop on Saturday, I was told in no uncertain terms: “No, Grandad, that’s not allowed without checking with the School Council.”  She only relaxed the rules when I agreed to buy her a bag of chips.

Then, the next day, while performing her regular duty of testing the Yorkshire puddings before Sunday lunch, she shook her head and told her Ganma: “Mmm. They’re dry and quite hard.”

Ganma knows she has to try harder but I think they’ve created a monster.

THE THINGS THEY SAY

Thank you to Kathleen Parkin, from the Monday Friendship Group, at Crook, for passing on this little gem ahead of Remembrance Sunday…

In the days when Kathleen was a foster carer, a little girl came home from school and asked: “Can I take some money to school tomorrow so I can get a poppy?”

Kathleen duly gave her a pound the next day, and the little girl came home with a poppy pinned to her dress. However, she was very disappointed – she thought she was getting a puppy.