It’s spring. Just a week or so ago it was -6C, now in 20’s and I’m sitting in a t-shirt in the sun. The kids have been tasked by the school into listing the signs of spring. OK, that’s not so bad. We go out into the garden and point to a crocus, a daffodil, blossom etc. In the trees a pair of blue-tits are fucking.
But then comes the words “Easter Bonnet”.
At 3.30am this morning Ita, her sister, and I were ransacking the house for anything useful. Imagine Zac turning up at school for the parade sans hat. Unthinkable. Eventually we got something together.
You’ll see that my suggestion of a crown of thorns complete with stage blood trickling down Z’s forhead was vetoed by the female contingent.
