By Nic Price on 29 October 2005 — 1 min read

My three-year old son and I went on a walk to Lordship Lane yesterday afternoon to pick up something to cook for my parents for supper from William Rose the butcher.

When we got back we sat on the ledge of the fence outside our house for a well-earned rest and looked up at the soft clouds drifting by in the light blue sky.

“They said it was going to pour with rain today. I’m glad they got it wrong,” I said.

“Who are they?” he asked.

“The man on the telly last night telling us about what he thought the weather would be like.”

“Oh, ok.” he said.

And then after a pause he grinned at me and said “Maybe they were joking!”

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