My daughter Emma has this very annoying routine. Apart from all the other havoc she creates, sometime after having lunch, she casually saunters onto the patio and checks out the scenery. She then coyly watches me over her shoulder to make sure that I don't suspect anything, and then makes her way to the only remaining pot plant on the patio (Nelson already ate the rest). This particular pot plant is my pride and joy - a star jasmine that I've had since 2002 and the longest surviving plant species in our married history. Needless to say I am kind of attached. Emma is also attached, but more to the soil as opposed to the Jasmine. Every day she trails her hand lightly over the soil while humming absent-mindedly to herself. If she is not attacked by raving pit-bulls or evil witches (she pays absolutely no attention to my ranting and raving) she proceeds to through dirt all over the place and rubs it onto her face. The dirt then usually ends up in the house. A trail all along the corridor leading either onto her bedroom carpet and into her bed, or onto my bedroom carpet, into my bed and eventually ends up in die bath. Lovely. No amount of pleading, shouting or death threats can persuade her to stop this pointless exercise. When she really gets into it, she sometimes dons a hat, like in the picture. As you can see from the expression on her face, this whole daily event gives her great pleasure. I wish I could say the same.