We made the most of the lovely day yesterday by going out with the boys to the "Poohstick Park", which is a great big expanse of common land at the back of our street, with a (very small) river running through it. It got its name from it being the first place that number one son ever played poohsticks!
Please note - shorts seen out for the first time this year!
The park is a very useful place at the moment as he's learning to ride his bike without stabilisers and the walk to it and the space available when you get there is ideal for practising! Once there, we introduced the boys to the finer art of rugby passing. Number one got it fairly quickly but number two didn't quite get the hang of passing the ball on. His preferred method of play was to pick up the ball and make a run for it in the opposite direction. This is not as silly as it sounds, given that his older brother was bearing down on him and had already delivered some serious, not to mention illegally high, tackles on their dad!
Meanwhile I maintained my gift for girlyness in the face of all the testosterone in my family and proved myself absolutely rubbish at passing and catching. Always said that rugby was a game for watching and not playing....
