Sunday, 15 September 2013

Toffee Apples

We’re breaststroking idly towards the deep end in the leisure centre pool, my 11-year-old daughter and I, when she asks, “Do you like toffee apples?”

A stroke later, I reply, “I don't think I’ve had one since I was about 14, at my school's summer fair; but I know I liked them.”

“I eat the toffee off them, but don’t eat the apple,” she confesses.

“That’s shocking,” I deadpan. “The apple’s the best bit.”

As we touch the rail at the end, she grins, “You can’t expect a kid to think the apple’s better than the toffee.”

                                        suntrapped ragwort—
the Thamesside blackberries
not quite ripe

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