The Happy King

Much gardening, planting some clumps of daffodils beside the path then over to the new beds to dig in the manure and plant in my twelve little bare root strawberry plants.
Before long though we were off, late afternoon, to pick up the little monsters to entertain awhile before bedtimes. Better than sitting in, we thought, would be to take them to the new gasholder park and tire them out before treating them to McDonalds. Grandparents prerogative. 
Apparently the SK never took her little girl to said establishment. When said little girl, now thirty, saw these pictures she railed at the unfairness of it all. I had to go secretly with Georgia Robertson and her mum, she wailed over WhatsApp. Haw.
Anyway, it all seemed to work very well. Mostly. Boys will be boys.