When I got home from work last night, the little rotter was sat on the sofa with one leg tucked under and one leg sticking out. She then proudly announced that she wanted to be a paralympian when she grew up. Their obsession with the Olympic games has been impressive. First came the sprint races down the corridor, relay using toilet roll tubes and umbrella javelin (very dangerous for cats). Then came the medal ceremonies – this involved a chocolate gold medal from M&S supplied by Grandma, a bunch of flowers from the garden wrapped in tin foil and presented with a handshake and then a tearful national anthem as they thanked the ‘crowds’. And now they have the Paralympics, which is proving to be equally captivating and inspiring for them. I gently explained to the little rotter that she could only be a paralympian if she lost a limb or had some other kind of physical disability like being partially sighted. This prompted her to search out her pirates eye patch to see what it would feel like to have only one eye while competing in umbrella javelin. I am forever amazed at the way kids mimic what they see and the empathy they can have at such a young age.