Whenever we take the train, I get anxious.
That's because C has a tendency to charge towards the height chart and attempt to measure herself against it. Then she will announce very loudly and proudly, "See Mummy, how tall am I? I am very tall, right?"
Yes, I know Baby, you are way past the cut-off height of 0.9m and you so need a card to get through the gantry now. So after our outing with Aunt Angie, I finally bought her a own transit card. Now, I don't have to look guilty or behave suspiciously *carry her from afar* .
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