Jumping over rocks. Sliding down the bank. Pushing his bike up the hill and racing down again. There was this girl, she joined his play. She was great fun. No braids in her hair, grubby hands and dirty nails, in her oldest clothes. They stamped in the puddles, threw sticks in the stream. But just as he was about to ask her name, his mum called him in. Around 12 o'clock. Lunch. See ya, he said and he sprinted home, as he was hungry, loosing one of his shoes on the way.
Anyway. We know the story... And they played happily ever after.
For Madhatters fairytales with a twist.
My eldest son Lev (sitting on the chair) and his sister Roz, trying to pull his shoe off :-)
