Up the muddy lane they go, thick as thieves.
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Running, climbing, running, jumping, with a constant stream of chatter. Meanwhile, the big boys stroll around deep in conversation, a beautiful ribbon of ideas flowing between them. They are a curious echo of their Dad's.
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Then back home to dinner and the last of the Christmas pudding.
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Such a pity we couldn't have ended a lovely day on a lovely note. But we came home to our bedroom window wide open, every drawer, door and cupboard open, and our laptop pc and The Eldest's mp3 gone. It could have been worse.Thank goodness it wasn't. But boy was I p***ed off.
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