Ever since finding out about this godparent business, Little Blog has had that hatching-a-plot look on her face.

This weekend, she has been asking her big sister, Sunshine, all kinds of questions about her godparents. How much chocolate is in their pantry? Do they go to the beach for holidays? Do they have their own toys? And many more of the same.

Finally, by Sunday evening, her questions subside. In fact, Little Blog seems to have abandoned her intentions of moving out. Sunshine is resigned to never being able to expand her empire beyond one bedroom.

Mom decides to be direct about it: “Do you still want to go live with your godparents, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “No, Mommy, I haven’t got enough time.”

Mom: “Time for what, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “To pack all the toys I want to take with and to make a list of all the new toys I want.”

Mom: “So you aren’t going to live with your godparents after all?”

Little Blog: Well, I won’t need godparents, Mommy.”

Mom: “Why not, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “Because Sunshine said you will only die of old age in a very long time and then we will be adults and we won’t need godparents anymore, so I don’t need them now.”

(Next: Mom tears up the revised will she had been preparing)

Little Blog has reached that stage of her life when she wants to prepare for the future.

It all starts very casually, with an innocent question: “Mommy, what are godparents for?”

Mom: “They are there to help make sure you follow the right path and get a good education and that you are looked after properly.”

Little Blog’s big sister, Sunshine, also knows a thing or two about godparents: “They are there for if your parents die, to look after you.”

Little Blog: “Mommy, who are my godparents?”

Mom: “M and H.”

Little Blog: “Sunshine, if I go live with them, do you think M and H will let me eat all the chocolates I want and have all the toys I want?”

Sunshine: “I think so, Little Blog.”

Little Blog gets that twinkle in her eye that alerts the world and several neighbouring planets that she is about to make a joke. Luckily for her, Mom spots it a moment before Little Blog blurts out:

“Mommy, could you hurry up and die now?”

(Next: Little Blog goes to bed without supper)

Calamity has struck Little Blog. One of her teddy bears is injured and she wants it taken to a “real doctor”.

Mom takes one look at the rip in the teddy’s arm and assures Little Blog that she can fix it with some careful sewing.

“But how do you know how to fix it, Mommy?” asks a desperate Little Blog.

“Well, I’ll try, Little Blog,” says Mom patiently.

Little Blog is dubious: “Mommy, is it like when you had a bad cut and the doctor had to do special sewing?”

“It’s almost like that, Little Blog.”

Little Blog goes off to find her big sister, Sunshine.

“I’m worried about my bear,” she tells Sunshine.

“Why are you worried, Little Blog? Mommy is good at sewing,” Sunshine reassures her.

Little Blog will have none of that: “Mommy isn’t a real doctor, so how can she fix the bear? You need special sewing to fix a bear.”

(Next: Little Blog calls 911)

Little Blog is underwhelmed by the technology in her home. First it was the cellular phones that weren’t good enough for her. Now she has cast her net wider.

“Mommy?” she calls from the playroom, and Mom pops her head in.

“Yes, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “Can you get me a new computer, please Mommy?”

Mom: “Why, Little Blog? What’s wrong with this one?”

Little Blog: “It hasn’t got enough games on it.”

Mom: “We can put new ones on this computer if we want to. But you don’t need them, Little Blog.”

Little Blog: “Why not, Mommy?”

Mom: “You’ve already spent all the time you’re allowed on the computer today. The big hand of the clock is past the 12, and that was when you had to stop.”

Little Blog: “Okay, Mommy. But you know what, Mommy?”

Mom: “What, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “We also need a new clock in the playroom.”

Mom: “Why, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “This one doesn’t work so well. We need one that goes slower.”

Little Blog believes she has found her calling in life. She is going to become a cellphone critic. This revelation comes after Dad arrives home with his new cellphone. It is one of those “smart phones” with more buttons than a passenger jet, and Dad spends hours trying to figure out how to use it. Little Blog watches the hi-tech wrestling match for a while, and finally feels compelled to contribute.

“It’s a cool phone, Dad,” says Little Blog.

“Thank you, Little Blog,” responds an unsuspecting Dad.

And then Little Blog is off:

“I like the picture it’s got of a flower, but if only all the writing went away and it showed only the stuff you need to click on to go to the places you want to go to, I would love it so much. You know why? Because I love flowers.

“Also it’s hard to press the numbers because they are so small and if you by mistake press the wrong number and somebody answers and you ask is it the right person, maybe they will say yes because they’ve got the same first name but maybe they haven’t got the same surname and you don’t know that. And then what if that person is a baddie? Maybe they hear your name and they go to the computer and type in your name and find out who your friend is and they say they know your friend. That’s why I don’t like the phone.”

“I see, Little Blog. Anything else?” Dad asks weakly.

“Yes, because the buttons are so small, and you keep phoning the wrong person, you have to try all the numbers and then maybe you haven’t got any more battery time.”

Dad: “Is that all, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “Does it tell the time?”

Dad: “Yes, Little Blog.”

Little Blog: “Well you don’t need the time because we’ve got clocks.”

Dad: “If you say so, Little Blog, who am I to argue?”

Little Blog: “And you know what else is wrong with it?”

Dad: “What, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “You still haven’t figured out how to use it.”