photo courtesy of Tess at Magpie Tales
Psst … she’s 'ere
Who?
Her, wi’ the hat, the big bag and the
brolly.
If she thinks for one minute, I’ll be
skipping along the rooftops of London and singing about flying kites and stuff,
she’s got another think coming.
Ah don’t be a spoilsport; it will be great
fun on a Friday evening.
You know I’m scared of heights.
But she will take care of us. She can do magic you know.
Dunno, don’t you think we’re past the
babysitting stage?
We can pretend she’s our daft auntie.
A
daft auntie’s voice croons from the front hall. ‘Supercalifragilistic
…’
- I’m out of here!
Wait for me bruv!
