‘There, you see! Even the school realises the limits of letting children loose with dangerous objects.’ His eyebrows rose with the satisfaction of someone who has proved a point, and Shannon flushed hotly.
‘Actually, Mr Lindley—’
‘Kane. It’s ridiculous for us to be on such formal terms. And I can see from the indignant expression on your face that I’m about to be subjected to a lecture on the importance of teaching young children how to play with fire.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of lecturing you on anything of the sort,’ Shannon informed him in a huffy voice, ‘but what I’m talking about here is a wooden spoon, a bowl and a bit of stirring perhaps. How many young children do you personally know who have fallen victim to a sharp cut from a wooden spoon? And how many serious domestic accidents have been caused from a bit of stirring?’
‘We do woodwork at school,’ Eleanor interrupted helpfully. ‘Don’t we, Dad? Do you remember that box I made for you a few months ago? The one with the lid that could open and close?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’ But Shannon could tell from the vague expression on his face that the last thing currently stored in his memory bank was a box with a lid that could open and close.
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