This summer, Little Miss got a book with a picture of wellies in it. From the moment she saw them, she loved them. And from then on, whenever she saw wellies – on TV, in a book, in a shop, anywhere – she would repeat over and over, “WEYEES!!”
But alas it was July. It was too warm for wellies.
Finally, the leaves began to turn and fall and there was a crisp, freshness to the air.
Finally, it was September.
Most weekends we go for a walk in the woodland park near our home. This weekend, like so many times before, we said, “Come on Little Miss, we’re going for a walk. Where’s your coat?” Off she scurried to find her coat. When she returned, both the Other Half and I had our wellies on. “WEYEES!!” She cried.
“Yeh, Mama’s wearing wellies. Daddy’s wearing wellies. Where are Little Miss’ wellies?” we asked. She looked up at us half confused, half annoyed as if to say, “I don’t have any, idiots.” Then the OH pulled out a tiny pair of turquoise wellies from behind his back. Her face lit up with shear delight and amazement.
“WEYEES!! WEYEES!!” She bounced on the spot reaching up, fingers splayed, desperate to pull on her very own wellies.
And then we went for our first autumnal walk of the year. With one very happy Little Miss. And her weyees.
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