The Real Lego
Mr Eight arrived last night to ask if he could find some Nerf gun bullets that he thought had come over the side fence. As always, he inspected the nursery, which he adores. I had just had the sprinklers on so a few snails had come out to enjoy the fresh green baby-tears. He asked if he could go back and get his sister, Miss Three-and-a-Bit, and their cousin who is staying with them, to show them the snails, and raced back home. The cousin, who has met us in the street a couple of times, was a bit cautious about coming in, but was soon swept up in the enthusiasm, and they swarmed through to the kitchen, where the Little White Dog was caught unawares. She politely endured the patting, but gave me a look which I suspect translates as something like, "Now there's three of them! Are they growing them on trees?"
The children streamed on out to the nursery, with Cousin asking, "What is a snail, anyway?" Mr Eight showed off his discovery, and I suggested tapping the top of a snail shell, which delighted him as the snail shrank back into its home. He suggested Miss Three-and-a-Bit try the same, and was told, "I'm not touching that!" At this point, the stray Tortoiseshell arrived, thinking that if the kids were impressed with, it this would aid its campaign to take over the house. But the kids were more interested in exploring the backyard with its big trees. It must be a bit threatening walking between big trees in the deep dusk when you are a very small person, and Miss Three-and-a-Bit made my day by politely requesting that I hold her hand as we searched for the bullets.
We collected a peach each on the way back to the house, and headed for the front door, where Miss Three-and-a-Bit made a joyful right turn into our bedroom, and then into the walk-in wardrobe. "I love this place!" She proudly showed her cousin the toy box with the Duplo. Her brother, not to be outdone, informed both the girls where the real Lego was, "Up there on the top shelf." (The Little White Dog had clearly anticipated this incursion because her normal place on the bed was vacant.) At this point, Four Year Old Cousin decided that her cousins had exceeded the limits of polite behaviour and told me, so politely that I almost expected her to curtsy, "This is a very nice wardrobe."
Well, the tripartite whirlwind of energy took itself home to its own backyard, where we could hear shrieks of laughter start up at the trampoline. The Little White Dog appeared for tea, and I took a few scraps from her tin out for the Tortoiseshell. As I returned to the back door I heard Mr Eight: "Ready? Three... two... one!" He was standing erect on the top of the colorbond fence and plunged down onto the trampoline to shrieks of laughter. I am going to miss these kids when we move.
Andrea (2021)
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