That's what we did today - lost our marbles in the park. Not just one or two but twelve shiny little glass spheres fell victim to the long grass after being propelled at quite some speed down the slide. The elation of letting go of each marble and watching it zoom along the gleaming metal of the slide was replaced quickly by dispair when the marbles vanished into the grass. Like the swings in the park my four year olds emotions move from joy to sorrow swiftly. One minute the world is staggeringly amazing and the next nothing is the way it should be because his lollipop is the wrong shade of pink. How I love this delicate age, the age when my youngest truly displays his desire to be independent but runs back to me, face adorably screwed up, in floods of gasping sobs because his independence is still so scary. This stage of my child's development will be gone soon so for now I am content to let him lose his marbles in the grass if (rather selfishly) it means that I am the one who gets to wipe his tears away with a kiss.
Theo made the situation worse by stating the obvious - 'you really shouldn't have rolled them down the slide'.
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