Thursday, 29 September 2011

Apple Tasting


I filled the fruit bowl with the rosiest, roundest apples from our trees and left them for my boy to explore whilst I took down the washing.

I watched his chubby fingers grasp each fruit in turn, and I watched the absorption with which he rearranged and replaced them.

And when I came to bring the bowl inside I found that each of the apples in the bowl had one small baby-sized bite out of its perfect flesh.

And I knew that every time I ate one, those tooth-marks would make me smile.

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