I've recently changed Stella's walk routes to give her new interests. I failed miserably. We went to what was my local rec (park) when I was a kid. Back then we had a huge lump of concrete, on top of which was a huge lump of crazy paving. If you managed to climb that without killing yourself, on top of all that was a slide. A double wave slide that you either hit your back or hit your head on. Less slide, more sui-slide.
That has all gone now, to be replaced with a toddler area, swing area and a basketball pitch.
Which would only have to double up as a football pitch wouldn't it?
Around all of this is grass. Lots and lots of grass. Full of teenagers playing 5 a side. Or any other number a side. And father and son combos kicking about balls. Or young lads leaving their ball lying around while they paddle through an ice puddle and getting stranded in the middle when their shoes get sucked off by the mud.
Stella. Was. In. Heaven. Wherever she turned, a ball came sailing past her. The temptation was too much, while paddlers were unable to move, the ball was chased, with only my authority to stop her. So she licked it to make the point that she'd touched it ner ner ne ner ner.
And off she went to the match. She was a very good spectator. Until she decided she was using her ball as a goalpost and went legging it after their ball. One very clever teenager who was in goal picked her ball up and starting playing catch. Too much sunshine, nobody touches The Ball. After all this embarrassment we walked off with their laughter ringing in our ears. And then the shouting started....
Oi, can we borrow your dog?! She's better than him in goal.....
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