Bean didn’t like anyone this morning. He didn’t like school. His hair was wet. His bag was heavy. He was too warm. Unnnngh. Not fair. All he wanted was to find a missing bit of lego (*), but nobody would help him. He was walking as fast as he could (**) but his legs were hurting.
And then a switch went click, he started talking about seed potatoes, and he was happy again.
Grief. If he’s like that at 7, we won’t survive 17.
(*) 5 minutes after we should have already left the flat.
(**) he would have been hard-pressed to keep up with a drunken sloth.
