Just as my Dad and I reach the check out he turns to me. “Can you get a paper?” he says.
“Which one?”
“The Times, or the Telegraph.”
“I’m not buying the Torygraph,” I say.
“Fine,” he sighs. “The Guardian then.”
Feeling tribumphant I wade through the Christmas shoppers. As I pass the freezers a blonde girl who comes up to my knees tugs on my coat.
Feeling slightly uncomfortable, because it’s a child, and I don’t know how to talk to them, I bend down. She has enormous brown eyes. She hands me a tub of ice cream and walks off.
I carry on past the freezer section and walk round a couple in the aisle.
“She went that way,” one of them is saying. “I can hear her calling.”
“Are you looking for a blonde girl?” I say, pointing them in the direction I saw her.
“She alright?” the woman says.
“Fine,” I smile. “She gave me some ice cream.”
“Sounds about right. You look like you need it.”
That’s the last time I retrieve your child then, I think as I stand in the aisle.
“Jeff!” she shrieks. “That’s not her, this lady says she over there!”
You have to wonder, don’t you?
No one would ever accuse me of needing ice cream LOL
Happy Christmas.
I am loving the new word tribumphant. I will use it in a sentence today.
Have a lovely Christmas Billygean! xxx