I find it so hard to keep the cliches out of my writing - they often evade me and need editing out . I imagine it's not uncommon - after all, the reason they're cliches is because they worked so well, and once they must've been just-coined and striking.
The children are so new, they bring less baggage to their world-view than I have. They have this uncertain grasp of language, too, that sometimes brings clumsiness or humour, like the 4 year old who used to call his favourite carb 'squashed potato', or the 1 year old who calls ladybirds 'spiderbirds'.
Occasionally, though, this flexibility with language produces something beautiful. When Bean was a very little girl, she woke up to one of those breathtaking September mornings when the mist hangs ragged in the valley so only a few treetops peek through, and the horizon is dim. She gasped and said, 'Everywhere is steamed up!'
Here's hoping I can find some of that enchantingly fresh vision; cast off my staid adult perception and be playful with words.
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