Michela

'We're going to a four year-old's Olympic party', says a young girl apropos of nothing in the red-carpeted hallway of an expensive block of flats.  'That's exciting', I say.  She has long dark hair and what looks like only one tooth protruding from her mouth at an angle.  A smaller boy is standing with her wearing an Avengers Assemble T-shirt.  'He's two years younger than me and one year older than him', she points at the boy.  She has an American accent.  'Is he your brother?' I ask.  'Yes', she says, 'I'm six and he's three'.  The brother clarifies, 'I'm three years old', he says.  'And your sister is six', I say to show I have been listening.  'Yes, but she used to be five', he tells me.  'The boy whose party it is is four', the girl says.  I ask what her middle name is.  She tells me.

'Have a good time at your Olympic party', I say.  'We will', she replies.