I hear rustling in his bedroom. Minutes later he comes out with a blanket over his head and a sheepskin hat over that. “Mum, what do I look like?” He looks ridiculous. Sweet. Wonderful. “You look like you,” I say. He seemed happy with that.
Stories from the journey home
I hear rustling in his bedroom. Minutes later he comes out with a blanket over his head and a sheepskin hat over that. “Mum, what do I look like?” He looks ridiculous. Sweet. Wonderful. “You look like you,” I say. He seemed happy with that.
