The boys were eating rice cakes on the walk home from the library this morning.
Then catastrophe! Presley dropped one of his rice cakes. As it rolled away from the pushchair he squeaked in horror. I told him it didn't matter because we had plenty more.
He squeaked and pointed behind him all the way home. When we got in, he ran to the front door. He's a man of few words, but I knew he wanted to go back out and look for the rice cake.
I then made a big mistake.
I told him not to worry, the squirrels would eat it.
Oh dear. He started to cry. Huge tears rolled down his cheeks and plopped on to his T-shirt. I tried to offer him another, clean, rice cake but he was too upset to answer. He merely pushed it away.
There was only one thing for it. Daddy to the rescue.
"Daddy, please can you go outside and find Presley's rice cake", I said (as I covertly handed Andy a rice cake). Out he went, down the drive.
Andy returned a few seconds later triumphant, rice cake in hand.
"Thank you Daddy".