So in the spirit of my resurrected ‘less is more’ philosophy and armed with a bag of mandarins and some chocolate brioches, we bunked off swimming lessons yesterday and went to the river instead. We ate a few of the mandarins but mainly used them to practice juggling (we are all rubbish) and play broken bottles ( Cosmo won- he always does, ‘on pain of death’) and then squelched in mud and generally mooched about. Marcus decreed it ‘the perfect last day of being eight’. I think he might have been right. Whatever it was, it was a lot better than sitting in a sweaty leisure centre with a lot of other bored mothers, feigning interest…..
Marcus and his mean gate vault
Sunning themselves like cats
The sinking mud
And one very cold river
One very happy, mud-splattered boy
And another one, on the eve of his ninth birthday ( where is the pause button?)