We took a stroll down the garden today to gather a few blackberries in the glorious morning sun. A plane flew noisily over and Harriet asked, in her best patronising voice, "What's that sound?"
She even gesticulated, should the words have been too complicated for me.
She's off to her grandparents' this afternoon so that I can catch up on paperwork. I'd much rather be poncing about in the sun with my girl, but needs must.
And I don't know that I actually have the energy for poncing.
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