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.


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