A shout, pitched somewhere between weary resignation and you’ve-got-to-laugh-or-you’d-cry amusement, floats up the stairwell.
‘Have you seen what Freddie’s doing down here?’
‘Since I’m up here and not down there, no, I haven’t.’
‘He’s sticking raisins in his belly button.’
It made my day. Inserting small objects into inappropriate orifices is such a ‘typical kid’ thing to do.
And putting them in your navel is way more sensible than stuffing them up your nostril or in your ear.