Dandelion stars.
Outside the Pizza Express restaurant in the High Street, they provide a high chair for a baby boy. His parents sit on either side of him. He discovers a new game. First he throws the menus, one by one, on to the gound, and each time his indulgent father picks them up. Next, he throws his father's sunglasses as far away as he can. He thinks its very funny to see his Dad go after them. So, strange to say, does Dad. Perhaps he's proud of his son's michievous energy. Mum looks on with growing distaste. When the child reaches for an empty beer bottle, she, not her husband, calls a halt.
It's been cold out of the sun these last few days. When the sun comes out in the High Street, I feel the warmth, as one does in the dead of winter when coming close to a fire. "It's quite nice, now," says a cheerful woman to her husband.
1 comment:
Perhaps dad's ill-judged tolerance was born out of the beer bottle
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