Anzac Day, late afternoon. Also, the last day of school holidays. We go to Manuka for an ice cream, and then stop off for a look in the bookshop. Sometimes we spend large sums of money there, sometimes we choose to treat it as a private reading library. This time it's the latter. Julius is at the stage now of beginning to recognise a few words, so reading a Maisy book can take some time, as we pause over every "is", "in", "and". (It is impossible not to get caught up in his excitement about this. We started reading to/with both boys when they were very little, so at this stage it must seem as if some kind of arcane Mystery Of The Little Squiggly Lines is slowly being revealed to them.)
So, it becomes time to leave. Carl starts to bolt towards the door, and I tell him (firmly) that it is against the rules to run in shops. To which Julius, who is just behind me, says, "Is it okay to fart in shops?" As I said, it's time to leave.
