I was out trimming my neighbour’s hedge today when I heard a
voice call ‘hello.’ I turned round to see three little girls standing by the
school fence on the other side of the road, so I went over and talked to them
about matters concerning their day at school. One of them, apparently the
leader, a blonde girl of around nine who’d already developed a manner
suggesting she’s going to rule a household with a rod of iron one day soon,
asked ‘And how has your day been?’
What? I’ve been around a bit, you know, and I’m no spring
chicken, but here I was engaged in a conversation being directed by a
nine-year-old girl. It throws you a bit. It does. And just as I was mumbling
some sort of half-baked reply, several more little girls turned up and started
giggling at me. I decided I was out of my depth; it seemed all too conspiratorial.
I conceded defeat and went back to trimming the hedge.
Shortly afterwards I went to post a letter and encountered
several more little girls in a field near the post box. But they were of the bovine variety. Much more up my street. One of them, a sweet brown and white
little lady who came up to about the level of my stomach, took great delight in
having her neck stroked and her ears tickled. In fact, she behaved more like a
dog than a cow. Not that she barked or anything, but you know what I mean. Pity she's too big to go for a ride in the car.
I think I’m finally finding my niche in life.
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