Harry is my littliest boy. He has dark hair, big eyes and eyebrows to die for. He also imparts great pearls of wisdom, delivered at a precise moment to either create a barrage of laughter or a tortured and embarassed silence. Harry is never afflicted by embarassment, that is usually the sole reserve of his mother.
It seems unfair to let his words dissipate when they can linger longer in cyber-gevity. And anyway, as his mum, I'd like to share some of his little gems.
When Harry was smaller than today, he had a small red bike. Through lack of use it never lost its shine and is currently 'on hire' to a smaller cousin. But I digress. Determined that this little boy would ride a bike while getting fit, I jogged behind him. The birds sang as we rode/ran over the sun puddled pavement. It was a perfect summer's afternoon. A grim look masked Harry's face, his eyebrows knitting in the middle. Jogging behind him, he kept stopping and starting, coughing and spluttering.
'Harry you are doing fantastically well,' I puffed behind him.
Stopping his bike, and turning to me, his little face a picture of thunder, he said 'Mummy, I am fantastically bored.' And with that he dismounted the red stead and started to push it home.
Oh well, I worked out he probably would never wear the yellow shirt in the Tour de France.
A friend, enquiring what school was like, was surprised by his response, 'In a word bull *poo*.'
I was shocked, as it's not the sort of comment you want recorded for prosperity (by a five year old) although it was also probably true. I've never heard him say 'that' word again and when I was bemoaing the horror story to my mother I noted that it wasn't one of my words, but apparently it is one of hers.
A school banker, Harry took his job very seriously. He worked his brow and a smile had no place on his banker's countenance. One day, the supervisor, a young woman, said that Harry's demeanour was scaring off the customers and warned that if he didn't cheer up, a replacement banker would be found. Harry caught her in his steady gaze, saying, 'I'm smiling on the inside...that's what counts'. And the ensuing fuss when the accuser was outed by the other bankers, returned Harry's smile to the right side of his face.
We all have these little gems, which are so easily forgotten and probably mean little to others, but hey, while I'm here...this cyber soapbox has four sturdy sides.
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