Tuesday, April 12, 2011
(Ooh look, a picture.)
I was on the bus this morning (going to meet Daughter 1 at the dressmaker's to organise her a bridesmaid's dress) behind a rather refined mother with a posh English accent sitting beside her small girl - aged about three.
The child looked out towards the magnificence that is Edinburgh Castle, its craggy rock glistening in the sunshine, a host of golden daffodils fluttering and dancing on its lower slopes. "What's that?" she enquired.
"That's Edinburgh Castle," said the mum and launched into a short history lesson about it.
"No," said the child indignantly, "what's that?" She pointed at the window itself. "It's bird poo."
And it was.