At a party on the weekend, Petal entered her first three-legged race. Her partner was to be her four-year-old mate, but after she broke under the pressure of a rigorous training regime, Petal was left without the required leg count.
Her only option was her little brother. Almost three years younger and a good head shorter, he wasn't an ideal match. But I grabbed the beige pantyhose and tied them together regardless - and there they stood joined at the hip. Well, his hip, her knee.
Ready, set, go! Off they raced, taking on the fierce competition, which included a set of twins who clearly had an unfair advantage from their womb days.
Amazingly, Petal and her little brother didn't trip or fall. Less amazingly, they moved at the pace of an arthritic pensioner. When they finally crossed the finish line metres, minutes, er, eons, after the other three-legged athletes, Petal looked up at me hopefully.
"Did we win?" she asked.
She obviously thought her competitors were out of sight as they were trailing so far behind them. In fact, by then, they were collecting their lolly-bags to leave...
What could I say?
"You were great!" I squealed.
"Yay, we won!" She jumped up and down - as did her brother. But thanks to the pantyhose, he had no choice really.
This story makes me laugh every time I read it. Just too funny!
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