Another good game, I wonder if he plays it with friends at school, is sharp intake of breath. In mock horror the first breathes in a deep, sharp breath, as if scared, or surprised at something 'over there,' then, the other does the same, looking in the same general directon at the 'horror.' Then the first takes another deep breath, followed by the other person taking a turn, and again and sometimes again. That'll be enough to be laughing too much to be able to do it once more.

Sometimes Bradley doesn't like the intrusion of the paparazzi. Just too tough, sonny.

But I stop there. No more pictures of Bradley for a while.

On the other side of the table, we have a ballet princess, who doesn't eat her crusts, but certainly knows how to enjoy a bacon sandwich.

I guess, it may be graceful or sheer delight in pork.

In greasy spoon cafes, I know, you can eat your sarnies anyway-you-want. And she does.

There wasn't any colour in my school yard, there was even ruined outside urials, which we weren't allowed to play in. Which we did. And were told off about it.

This playground is nothing like my old school, Aman Infants, Godreaman, Aberdare, circa 1966-1970.

We skip all the way home. "Stop Daddy!" We wait till a big knot of parents and children walk past. And she shows me sideways skipping. We carry on. 3 minutes later "Stop Daddy!" Another knot of parents and kids wedges past. I stand back, this is a big knot. She shows me fast skipping.

First out. Last home.

As you step down the stairs, quitely in thoughts of your own, you see a dark shadow dash cross the doorway in front of you, a thud thus, as two heels hit the back of the door out of view. Deep intake of breath as you steel yourself... Step closer, hear a squeal and a titter. And Rooooaaaar!!! You take a step backwards and pull a face in horror. In front of you, a three year old with hands as claws, terrifying teeth and nasty eyes!

Or in this case as you walk into the kitchen!

And she's ready, "can we go now? Pleeeeeeezz!"

And a good time had by all. We even went down ourselves, Amada and I.

I have to tramp up in the snow, again. I did it in the morning, crisp crunchy from the surprise the night before. Then just lunch time we had some rain which melted it all away. All forgotten. Just before I have to pick her up it blankets the gig! Typicial.

I arrive two minutes late. Esme's held back by the teacher, and is agog through the glass door. Out she pops, first thing to do, is get some before it goes away again.

Wonderful. A moment like this, once a week and one can live forever.

He wanted to stay in. Watch telly. "It's dangerous," he mutters.

Finally we get out. have a walk up to the green, and walk back, it's cold, it's taken us half an hour just to get here, I gotta get Esme...

We start back, here, Bradley's muttering about the three bears. To the left of this picture is a groups of tall pine trees. And behind, a small hut where lives the watchman for the run down small business units, that is Padock Mount, Dawley.

So, Bradley says, "I will play with Little Bear." I say, "sure he won't want to eat you up?" "No, I will be his friend."

And thusly he mutters about the Little Bear as we walk back up the steep field.

We pledge to get Esme out after school. "She is brave of snow."

We didn't go very far with the sled. Though he liked being towed.

We had quite a few giggles, slipping and sliding, but all in all he wasn't too impressed.