A garden hose. When it comes to a toy of choice, it's hard to match when you are three. When you are me, a garden hose is really not that attractive. My mother finds herself in a hypnotic trance holding a hose and watering the garden. I find myself bored and that's the kindest thing I can say about it. Gardening is not my thing. Still, I'm not a grumpy old woman about it. When my friend Elliott asked if I wanted to play with the hose with him I agreed. I pretty much knew what I was signing up for. I pretty much knew what I was signing Winkle and Rumple up for. We were going to end up decidedly soggy. And we did. Let's be honest it wasn't really he weather for it either. I mean it wasn't freezing but it wasn't I need to strip off all my clothes and jump into the pool either. But the warmth of the smile made up for being moist and putting up with double damp dog smell.
No comments:
Post a Comment