A portrait of Ellen

This was her idea. I was standing at the car window waiting on Ewan to come back from the park with the rest of his after-school club cronies when she piped up, "Daddy, can you take a picture of my leg" and when I did I realised that it says more about her than her wee angelic face. The multi-bruised shin, the scraped and bruised grubby knee and the manky wee fingers are the features of a tearaway. Even though she likes pink and glitter and princesses.

Shall I mention today's public transport mess or can that just be taken as read? I'll not bother. You know the story.