Fast forward a few hours, and, coat removed, Little Fish opened the front door to let a visitor out. She then puttered around in the hall for a bit, and I heard the sounds of a doll's buggy being pushed out of the front door.
We have a lovely back garden. Little Fish prefers the front. She came back in again a few minutes later, and I assumed she'd had enough. No such thing - two minutes later the pram was going the way of the buggy, and Little Fish was set for the afternoon.
Whilst I am impressed with her skills in pushing pram and buggy whilst simultaneously wheeling herself along, I am a little concerned with her parenting skills.
I'm no expect, but I'm reasonably certain baby's feet aren't supposed to be sticking out of the pram like that.
With superb timing, Little Fish managed her escape just before the end of the school day. This ensured that for the next hour, she had a solid stream of passersby, mothers on their way to collect children, children and mothers returning from primary school, and then older children walking back from secondary school. I think she said "'Ello" to every single one of them, and the vast majority of them replied. It makes me melt how even the toughest looking group of teenage boys who round the corner playing loud music, hitting each other and spitting on the street all calm down as the pass her. Most of them manage an embarrassed "awright?" in return for her 'Ello; occasionally one of them will even stop to straighten out the buggy for her or comment on her cool wheels. I love it.
I am however slightly baffled by one woman. She and her children all pushed their bikes across my lawn rather than take the footpath. That in itself is not at all unusual. She then stopped for a chat - again, not unusual. But she then suggested that I put up a fence, so that Little Fish could play outside. I'm not sure what she thought Little Fish was this afternoon. When I mentioned that putting a fence up could be problematic as everyone walks across my lawn, she told me I should put it up set back from the footpath. Hmm, so I should fence my lawn in so Little Fish can play, but I should cede part of my garden so people don't have to stick to the path? I wonder if she'd do the same?
And then the audience ran out, and after a few minutes of calling out incase they were hiding, Little Fish set off up the cul-de-sac in search of new
Oh, and the keen-eyed amongst you might spot a large abandoned boot in the hedge between Little Fish's pram and buggy. Who loses a boot on the way home? And how?