“Grown-ups are strange.” said Molly.
“You’re telling me!” sighed her brother.
They were sitting in the tree, in what the local kids called “The Ropey” due to a rope swing from one of the branches of an old knarled tree. It had been there for ever, according to street legend... “My great aunt Annie played on that swing in 1910……..”
“I mean, this morning…what was all that about? You know, all that shouting at dad just ‘cos mum lost the car keys?” asked Molly
“Yes” pondered John, “anyone would have thought dad lost them, and they’d just been put on the shelf.”
“We’d get grounded if we behaved like that!” observed Molly
“And did you hear them arguing about dad not putting his clothes away?” asked John
“Their bedroom was so untidy yesterday….I don’t know how they dare tell me off!”
“Yes but your room smells funny too said Molly, “mum calls it ‘eau-de-teenage boy’”
“Can’t say I’ve ever noticed” said John “…at least it’s not pink!”
“Well, I like pink” Molly scowled.
“When are they back from the hospital?” John asked looking at his watch.
“I don’t know, they’ve been there for ages again today, do you think gran’s dying?” she asked, suddenly growing serious.
“I don’t know, but mum was crying again last night, she said something about her needing palliative care……..”
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