The Oracle of Selfie

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. Generic start, yes. But hey, this was written in lockdown. So be kind.

The little girl was called Cass, and she was 5 years, 3 months and 6 days old. She was an only child, but don't hold that against her. She wasn't a brat. Well, at 5 and a bit years old, she did have her moments. But then, don't we all?

Our story begins before The Great Plague of 2020, back in the days when all we had to worry about was Brexit and whether we had enough tonic for our gin. It was September 2019, and Cass had just started school.

Cass had always been pretty creative, with a wonderful imagination full of adventure and excitement. She wrote lots of stories, and always drew pictures to illustrate them. Drawing wasn't really her strong point, but she put a lot of effort in, which is what really counts. Apparently.

Her parents were very proud of her. When they all sat down to dinner, they loved hearing all about her day. As Cass had such a fabulous imagination, and was so enthusiastic, she always told a good story. They were not surprised to hear of the daring escapades of Cass and her brave and faithful friends (human and imaginary), who fought the baddies in the playground, liberating butterfly royalty from little Jonny S, who was intent on kicking them all to death. Jonny S was the usual villain, he was always in trouble, but didn't do the other children much harm. Don't worry, he turned out to be a rather well-balanced adult, so that's OK.

Sometimes, it turned out, Cass and her friends actually did learn things in an actual classroom, but it seemed more accidental than anything.

One day, Cass came home with a diary. She informed her inquisitive parents that all the kids had been given one for a Very Important Project. They had to keep a diary, and write down three things that they are grateful for every day. And one thing that they think will happen next year. Her parents told her this was called a 'prediction'. Cass liked that. And her parents thought that this VIP diary like a very good idea indeed.

Everyday after dinner, Cass would read her VIP diary to her parents, and everything appeared nice and normal. Well, as normal as you'd expect from a 5 and a bit year old with a vivid imagination. The entries were along the lines of:

'Today I am grateful that it didn't rain, and I had an apple in my lunchbox and that we played hide and seek at lunch time. Next year I predict I will ride a zebra.'

The VIP was originally only meant to last for a month, but Cass enjoyed it so much that she carried on. She got more creative, and started drawing pictures to go along with her words. She started to draw herself (not very well) in her diary, and joked to her parents that they were her 'selfies'.

One day, she read to her parents:

'Today I am thankful that I got to be outside and play with friends. I am grateful to be able to hug other people. I am grateful for toilet roll.'

Cass's parents looked at each in amusement. Toilet roll? They thought there must be a story to go along with that particular comment! But when they asked Cass about the toilet roll, her response wasn't what they expected.

'Because next year, there won't be any' And that is my prediction for today, too. No loo roll!'. She'd drawn a selfie, of her sat on the toilet with an empty loo roll holder and a frowny face.

The next day was a little less strange, but still slightly odd. 'Today I am grateful for sliced bread, picnics in the park, and seeing Grandma. Next year, I predict there will be rainbows everywhere, and people will clap at the same time.' There was, of course, a selfie, which showed Cass stood beneath a rainbow, and clapping. There was something weird drawn on her face, too, but her parents couldn't work out what it was. 'Cass, what have you drawn on your face?'

Cass replied, 'A facemask, of course. You're both wearing them too, but you're not in the selfie.'

They almost asked her about the clapping, but thought better of it.

The following day was similar. 'I'm grateful today for going for going to the supermarket with daddy. And for a walk in the park with my cousins, and playing on the swing', Cass had written. Not so odd in itself, but she'd never professed an interest in going to the supermarket before. In fact, she usually made her parents, and anyone else in earshot, perfectly aware that she thought it quite the most boring thing that had EVER happened to her, ever. At least all day. So they found that particular entry a little strange. Especially since she'd also had cake at school, as there'd been a birthday, which received no grateful mention.

Another selfie, this time showing Cass looking through a telescope to the moon, which has a US flag on it.

'Cass, we've already been to the moon, there's already a flag there'.

'Yes Mummy' replied Cass. 'But we've not been back for a while, and besides, we didn't get all the treasure buried there. That's the prediction. America wants to go and dig up all the treasure on the moon next year! I guess they have really, really good cheese up there, if they want to go all that way'.

Cass's VIP diary entries, selfies and predictions continued, and her parents continued to marvel at how weird and whacky they appeared to be getting. From swarms of bugs washing up on the seaside in Yorkshire, to Koalas flagging down cyclists for a drink of water. Their absolute favourite, though, was a toss up between 'everyone misses talking about Brexit' and 'the Prime Minister grounded everyone for being naughty, so no one is allowed to go out and play'. Both equally hilarious.

Christmas and New Year came and went, and still Cass kept her diary going. When Cass predicted that the head of wrestling would be put in charge of the US money, they thought perhaps they should get in touch with a child psychologist. They had started to wonder why so many of the predictions were not about the normal world of a 5 year old. You know, 'I predict we'll go to the zoo' or 'Frozen 3 will come out' or something more... child like. But, she seemed happy, and as she hadn't asked them for a dragon yet, they decided not to look a gift-unicorn in the mouth.

But then, the news started spreading about the fires in Australia, the images of the animals, and the koala drinking water from the bottle of a cyclist... And then the news came out of China about a virus, and there was talk of face masks, and pandemics. And Cass's parents asked if they could please see her selfies and read her predictions.

Toilet paper shortages, as well as pasta and rice. The PM asked everyone, very nicely, to please stay at home, and they didn't listen, so he came back on TV and basically said 'you are all idiots and can't be trusted, so you're grounded. Stay the fuck at home.'

So now, everyone is at home. Cass's parents are helping her to learn and have fun whilst they're all at home. They are encouraging her to keep writing down what she is grateful for, and have set up a fun page of 'things my daughter says'. They've also managed to put away a tidy little sum of money, based on some of the selfie-predictions Cass has made.

After all, when your daughter is the Oracle of Selfie, you might as well use it to your advantage.