Dad's boots
Nothing happened. Literally. We (that's me and him) had a nice wind-assisteed ride to work. Work was the usual and the run back was without annoyance from twats rushing home. Picked up greetin' faced weans from their playdate / childcare (Mandy was away working) and took them home to bundle them into bed but not before a bit of recorder practice from him and some cycle boot dancing from her.
I know it's not a flute and at its best the sound can be only be as pleasant as nails on a blackboard but I'm encouraging the recorder.
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