Friends of mine are staying in the city for a week while one of their children is in hospital (a minor operation), and the youngest daughter, a nine year old, struck up a friendship with a couple of other girls in the neighbourhood. They have commandeered a section of the pavement of the local public school, and while visiting, I wander over and they are in the midst of a version of hopscotch. Ever up for hopscotch, since the last time I played was probably 30 years ago, I join in. My turn comes, and I throw my stone (gathered from the side of the playground), and it rolls out of the first square. Not good. The nine year old daughter looks up at me: "You are tossing from too high up. You must change." When my turn comes round again, I crouch, and get it in, and get a few rounds in, and then as I attempt to hit the further squares, I miss. She sighs.

She looks at me sternly, like a Zen master."You need to breathe slower and not move so much. Throw it softly, and don't skim it. It should land flat, like this --" and she arcs her hand up and hits her other hand flat. I try again, and miss. She shakes her head.

Eventually I get better, but it is pretty rocky.

I don't know, but I suspect that one day she will rule the world. It will certainly be in good hands.