running feet

running feet
Running feet. These aren't mine.

Saturday, 9 April 2011

H is for hearty chuckle

I've got two young boys - they're five and two respectively - and alongside being amazing, beautiful, creative, imaginative, sensitive little creatures, it's fair to say they can be hard work at times. They're both a bit under the weather at the moment, and this evening we deposited them in a shared bath and took five minutes to compose ourselves for the final bedtime push.

Being the first chance in the day I'd had for independent thought, I mentioned to my wife that I needed to think about an H to blog about, and my well was running a little dry. At which point my youngest's special laugh drifted across our kitchen from the bath - there's probably nothing in the world as pure and innocent as a baby's laugh; or as uplifting. After a long, hot day it was tonic indeed, and instantly gave me a topic for H.

So this particular entry is for my children, and their hearty chuckles.

Running log
Distance: Interminable (as anyone who's got small kids will tell you)
Pace: Unrelenting
Location: My house, my allotment, the park. (Again, no maps necessary)

No comments:

Post a Comment