I begged my mother not to make me go to granny’s wearing a dress, claiming that somebody would see me getting into the car, getting out of the car, even in the car. Mum told me I was being silly and that nobody would see me except her and Granny.

He sighed a deep sigh. One so deep I knew he’d conceded. “Now… what would you like for lunch?”

“I dunno.” he shrugged before slumping himself onto the dining chair.

“Ah ah ah… scoop.” I insisted. He exhaled heavily through his nostrils as he lifted his weight off the chair and smoothed his dress beneath him. “That’s better… you don’t want it getting all creased do you?” I grinned as he shrugged off my question, so I suggested warming him a tin of soup with floaters.

“I suppose so.” he moaned.

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