Pooh sticks

By the time I emerged from the shower this morning, R and B were already out in the garden, collecting fallen twigs to take to the bridge and throw into the stream. They came back with a sizeable collection in this carrier bag, but even so, as we walked down the lane to the cut, B would stop abruptly every few feet, say "Oh!" - or sometimes, "Ah!" - then bend, pick up another small stick, and carefully add it to the bag.

Eventually we made it to the stream, and a good time was had by all - except possibly on the occasions when the Boy Wonder threw a particularly favoured stick, only to regret having let go of it and ask R to fetch it back for him. I think it was to distract him from one of these incidents that R taught him about Pooh sticks, and they then spent a further happy while dashing from side to side across the bridge. The stream is pretty full at the moment and flowing quite fast, but the bridge is narrow enough for a small boy to be whisked quickly from one parapet to the other, so the game worked quite well.

When he got bored with it - "All er shtix!" he said, diving into the bag, emerging with both hands full of twigs, and hurling the whole lot over the edge - we agreed that we'd go for a walk around the village and see if we could find anything else that was interesting to look at. Sadly though, about ten minutes later our excursion came to an abrupt and unhappy end, when we failed to stop the Boy Wonder scaling a muddy verge, and then had to watch him coming back down it at speed, on his bottom, and landing in a large puddle. His howls of distress as R carried him home will certainly have called a halt to any peaceful Sunday morning lie-ins among our neighbours, but the way I looked at it was: it was time they were all up and about anyway.

Back at the house, the Boy Wonder allowed himself to be stripped off and sluiced down on the promise that he could then do some water play, and once he was back in clean dry clothes and I'd given him a cup of warm milk and an oat biscuit, his good humour was fully restored. The Oldies were still slightly traumatized though, so we did indoor play with him for the rest of the morning.

When L and B left after lunch, R and I debriefed over a cup of coffee before setting the house to rights, and we agreed that despite the Verge Incident it had been a thoroughly excellent weekend.