Walking, walking, walking


Everyone thinks I just love it.

‘Let’s take her for a walk,’ they’ll say, as if I’m some kind of dog.

I’m there thinking, ‘You guys go if you like? I’m alright, thanks.’

And the things is Mum and Dad like different kinds of walk. Mum likes just pootling about the local shops but that’s not for Dad. Oh no. Dad can’t just walk out the front door.

He has to drive to somewhere for walking. And these places are always in the middle of nowhere because it’s not a proper walk apparently unless you’re by trees and fields, and we can all absolutely wet our pants every time we see a cow.

And then now Dad’s decided to put me facing outwards in the sling, he’s constantly checking in to see what I’m up to.

He’ll be like, ‘What’s she doing?’

And Mum’ll be like, ‘She’s just looking.’

And he’ll be asking, ‘Yeah but what’s she looking at?’

And Mum’ll say, ‘I don’t know-mainly her hood.’

And Dad’ll get annoyed then, ‘There’s no need to be so negative. She’s enjoying the scenery isn’t she?’

And I’ll be thinking, ‘No mate. I’m just chewing my hood.’


1 Comment Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: