Gardening

Another warm day today which meant the afternoon in the garden, tidying up. Kieron would usually get involved in one way or the other. At the end of the garden is Kieron's bench where, as I've mentioned before, he sits to play on his DS or PSP out of the sun's glare. That's if he's not sitting on the shed roof. The flagstones underneath the bench were slippery with moss and algae so I got out the pressure washer. This, in Kieron's hands, becomes an AK47 with him killing off the Taliban ( I know...politically incorrect, but hey, this is about Kieron) and shouting "KABOOM!" whenever they are zapped.
Holding branches as I cut them down, begging me to let him have a go. Which I would, although panicking constantly that he'll saw through an artery or a finger. Distracted by dead ladybirds, Kieron gives me a chance to do the more dangerous stuff as he trots off to bury them with a little eulogy and crocodile tears to the sound of a cartoon "boo hoo hoo".
Food beckoning, I can be assured that Kieron will dine on crisp sandwiches and a chocolate bar as I carry on what is now becoming an arduous task.
Kieron usually surprises me with a mug of coffee so we sit on the decking, me with coffee, him with tea and put the world to rights. This stands for "can I have an ice cream off the ice cream man please?".
Sure enough, about 3 o'clock the familiar jingle sounds and Kieron and I try to work out which road parallel to ours the van is and he runs off to get some money out of my purse and sits on the front wall outside, talking to the little girls next door who are on the same mission. Kieron's version of chatting to these girls is designed to show off his superiority as Nicola is 1.5 years younger and Chloe is 6 months younger. Machismo kicks in as he talks of how he's been chopping down trees and shooting an AK47. Unfortunately, Kieron has met his match with tomboy Nicola and she does her own bragging.
Ice cream in hand, saving a little for me, Kieron wanders back in relishing the taste of ice cream eaten with disgustingly dirty hands.
Final job...fill the rubble sacks ready for the tip and Kieron sets to with a will, half falling in them himself. Job done, car loaded, tired but conscious that we've done well, we lock the sheds, Kieron has a final splosh with the hosepipe and we head indoors.
When the ice cream van came past today I wondered if the girls next door were outside waiting and if they were, would the ice cream man ask where their mate was?