I noticed Poppy was rubbing her eye when we were in the park earlier. I her asked what was wrong and she told me that she’d got something stuck in it. My tics responded instantly with a barrage of questions about what the mystery object might be:

TH: Is it a grain of egg-fried rice?
Poppy: No.

TH: Is it a discarded sock?
Poppy: No.

TH: Is it an antelope covered in butter?
Poppy: No.

TH: Is it a thatched cottage with period features?
Poppy: No.

TH: Is it the whole of Lithuania?
Poppy: No.

TH: Must just be dust then.

By the time this interrogation was over her eye was much better.