I must assume that when the Princess speaks English, she takes her tone from me. I fear it is not a very nice tone.
When I stub my toe and howl in agony, she will kindly ask what’s wrong and when told say sternly “well then be careful and don’t do it again”.
The house usually echoes to the sound of herself shouting “are you coming or not?” when she wants me to inspect her latest achievement “look Mummy, I’m eating a slice of ham” regardless of what I might be doing “I’m just finishing changing Daniel’s nappy” and how easy it might be for me to get away and how important I might consider what she particularly wishes to draw to my attention.
Every time she addresses me and I fail to respond instantly she says in a strict and reproachful voice “I asked you a question, Mummy”. A lot of the time, I’m forced to point out to her that no, actually, she hasn’t asked me a question and has just made a statement to which I am supposed to respond. She is trying to work out what a question is, so now when she says something she follows it up with “Is that a question or a misstatement Mummy?”. It’s like living with President Bush.