I wash up and chat to their father in the kitchen at twilight when a small person appears, just before we take them all up to bed.
“Why?”
“Why what dear?”
“Why you are not?”
“Why are we not what?”
“Why you are not be wear dah pyjamas at night.”

I gulp to aid oxygen flow to my brain but spouse sniggers “because we're British. British people don't wear pyjamas. Pyjamas are for wimps. People from an island race never wear pyjamas.”

I am tempted to stamp on his foot or duct tape his mouth permanently closed. Where does he get this stuff from?
“Why?”
“Which bit dear?”
“Racing Island? It is be a game?”
“No, England is an island and race means……a type of people, English people, Italian people, American people……people who belong to a particular land mass.” Why did I say ‘land mass’ to a child with a speech delay?
“Island people are not wear pyjamas?”
“Er well…..”
“Exactly so,” spouts the terminator.
“Why?”
“Because island people swim a lot. You swim better if you don't wear pyjamas.”
“Island people are be swim at night?”
“Frequently.”
“Why?”
“Just in case of fire. It there's a fire, the best place to be is in the sea, in water.”

Not the OCD feed!

Why is he so trigger happy?

Both menfolk pause, reflective. “I am be not be wear dah pyjamas either.”
“Why?”
“Coz of dah label.”
Label? We’re completely label free around here.
“What label?”
“It be say 'flame able!' I am not wanna burn my butt in bed.”

I am also broadcasting on “Trusera” today with “Chickens and Eggs.”