5. It was my first nut
There's something about a three-year-old reaching into the pockets of his jeans.
Charlie has been carrying a gumnut around for the last few days. Last night, he reached both hands into his pockets, and they came out empty, his face surprised.
‘Is it gone?’ I said.
He nodded.
Then he looked thoughtful. ‘It was my first nut,’ he said. ‘And I loved it.’
I searched the house for it, and found it in the couch cushions. He seemed mildly pleased to see it again, but handed it back to me almost at once, and went on playing with the racing cars.
Charlie has been carrying a gumnut around for the last few days. Last night, he reached both hands into his pockets, and they came out empty, his face surprised.
‘Is it gone?’ I said.
He nodded.
Then he looked thoughtful. ‘It was my first nut,’ he said. ‘And I loved it.’
I searched the house for it, and found it in the couch cushions. He seemed mildly pleased to see it again, but handed it back to me almost at once, and went on playing with the racing cars.
