Plump

"Can you say "happy Mothers' Day" to Grandma?" said L in a stage whisper.

"I got choklit ice cream," said the Boy Wonder, appearing briefly from behind an enormous cone, and demonstrating that he did indeed have choklit ice cream, spread all across his face like a moisturising mask.

"We've been out for lunch, haven't we?" said L.

No reply...

"What did you have for lunch?" I asked.

No reply...

"Can you tell Grandma what you had for lunch?"

No reply...

"Did you have... pasta?" I enquired.

"Yes," said the BW from behind his ice cream cone.

"No you didn't!" said L. "You had sausages!"

"Sausages!" I said. "Your favourite!"

No reply.....

R and I commented to each other later that the Boy's parents missed a trick: if they'd wanted him to converse intelligibly with a grandparent this afternoon, the deal should have been conversation first, and ice cream second.

Nonetheless, it was lovely to see them all for a Mothers' Day Facetime chat, even if most of the actual chatting wound up being between L and me. I also enjoyed a phone call with H this morning, and received a lovely bouquet of spring flowers from both Offspring, and a card, chocolates and a special breakfast from R. I felt truly spoiled.

After breakfast R and I did some gardening, then he went for a walk while I hunted invertebrates around the garden. By the time he arrived back home I'd put down the camera and was going wild with the loppers again, but I was happy to stop for an Aperol spritz. We then prepared and enjoyed an enormous lunch. With cheese. And chocolate.

After lunch we went back to the gardening, in the probably vain hope of not waking up tomorrow as plump as this plumpie. Among other tasks, we planted the flowering currant we bought recently to replace the cherished hebe that died over the winter - which is at least a small step towards repairing the damage caused by December's catastrophic freeze.