Saturday, 12 September 2009
In Which Youngest Is Proud of his Willy
We went blackberrying today.
Rays of gold shafting through hedges laden with hawthorns, sloes, elderberries and blackberries. Lazy flies hovering over the horses in the fields, and dancing over us as we make our way down the track.
Under mighty oaks we go, flanked by rabbit flattened grass and late buttercups.
Youngest and Daughter are on their bicycles.
Suddenly, through the stillness of the afternoon, Youngest yells out in joy,
'Mummy! Take a look at my willy! It's Amazing!' He is obviously Deeply Impressed with himself.
In horror I take a furtive look. What in hell's name is he doing now?
He is on his bike, front wheel up, scrunching to a dusty and triumphant halt.
'There! Did you see it, Mummy? Did you see my willy?'
With Great Relief I tell him that indeed I have seen it. And that it was as Amazing as he thought it was.