The mother looked harassed, sitting there filling out the forms in the dentist’s waiting room. On one side of her a quiet lad about twelve, obviously suffering. On the other, a young gentleman of perhaps three. Given the age difference there was every possibility of a third child, of an age somewhere between the two but currently at school. Mum had reason to look tired, of course.
Three year old was swinging his legs and looking round, smiling at everyone in sight. I caught his eye and smiled back, sharing that direct complicity that you only get, as a rule, from the very young. Particularly when they are intent on mischief.
His eyes wandered some more then lighted on his Mum. His face lit up with a big, beaming smile.
“Love you, Mum!” he said at the top of his little voice, leaning in for a cuddle. Mum wafted him…
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