FOUND in a primary school corridor: "Dear -----, Where can we kiss? Maybe in the bushes, but when? Maybe on Friday, but we need some private time. PS. Don't show anyone. Love ----- ".

The Little Miss (and object of affection), dropped the note after flouting its instruction and passing it round her friends.

The huddle was seen at recess, giggling over Romeo's amorous intentions, scrawled on a page torn from a spiral notebook.

The rendezvous was averted by a wily teacher and the vexed seven- year-olds were suitably embarrassed.

Two minutes later they were seen laughing at a potty joke. Cute.

Kids are great the way they imitate the olds around them. They provide no end to entertainment. They just tell it like it is.

Another youngster was heard telling her mum that her Barbie had "wine flu". How did she contract this serious virus? She dipped her finger in some wine, of course, and "got some germs".

What a darling.

The no-frills communication of kiddlywinks fluoresces against the grey dribble of their elders. It's like a beacon - refreshing, and amusing.

But with education they will learn to use three words in place of one, earning a badge for witticism perhaps, or academic mastery.

In his new book Bendable Learnings, Don Watson exposes the linguistic spin of government, business, media and education - with his tongue firmly in his cheek.

And Tassie rates a mention.

Our government defined a single word - "outcomes" - completely inoffensive on its lonesome, as: "... the benefits or other long-term changes that are sought from undertaking the project. They are achieved from the utilisation of the project outputs. Outcomes are linked with objectives, in that if the outcomes are achieved then the projects objective(s) have been met".

Aaargh! Anyone's eyes would glaze over within half a sentence.

But the same could be said for the way we pray.

Example: "Dear heavenly father, we beseech thee to intervene on behalf of our brother in Christ who is ailing bla bla bla..."