Son: When are you going to get that cracked ceiling fixed?
Mum: I don’t know – it’s not very important at the moment.
Son: It is important – the crack might get bigger and bigger and then the roof might fall down.
Mum: What are you, a builder?
Son: No, silly – I can’t be a builder until I’m an adult. THEN I’m going to be a builder.
Mum: Oh good, you can build me a nice big house, with some lovely big rooms, a shop and somewhere to have a kids club. Then I could work there, and you could be there, too!
Son: No I couldn’t! I’d have to build more houses somewhere else for my job… I could come over at break time though.
Mum: Ah yes, of course – you’ll be all grown up and going to work.
Son: What if I come over in my break and you’re out, so the house is closed and I can’t get in?
Mum: You could have a key, so you can come and go as you want. Can you build me a swimming pool too? That would be nice.
Son: Well, I don’t think that would be a good idea. What if all the children came running out to go to the swimming pool and flattened me, rolled me out like a piece of paper, until all that was left was my hard hat?
Mum: I hadn’t thought of that.
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