Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Porridge, pub and playground.

1. Porridge with cream and rivers of golden syrup.

2. It's too hot to think about lunch. We normally eat at the pool on a Monday, but it's the first day of the holidays and I just couldn't face swimming. I take Alec up on my shoulders and go to the pub, where we sit in a cool, empty dining room beside an open door. The landlord makes Alec laugh and we eat food cooked by someone else.

3. Alec is playing by the climbing frame that's meant for big children -- he likes to waggle his fingers through the holes in the climbing wall. Suddenly a flock of giant tweens appear from no-where. I'm about to move him to safety, but he stands his ground. They gather round him, the closer ones kneeling and the outside ones standing and I hear them ask him about the aeroplane on his T-shirt. I hear them say: "If you could talk, what would you say?" Then suddenly a phone rings and he's forgotten (not that he cares, he wants to go on the roundabout now).