Chelsea, Ella and I were standing outside Savers on Sydney Road last Saturday when a guy walked – or rather, hobbled – past us. He had a big bushy beard, wild hair and was wearing a filthy khaki shirt and pants. Tied to his leg with two strips of black cloth was a broom handle – a makeshift splint, presumably. He looked decidedly uncomfortable as he lurched awkwardly along the pavement.
After he was a suitable distance away, Chelsea (3 1/2) said, “That man was funny!” I was a bit unsure of how to respond. “Yeah,” I said. “He had a stick tied to his leg!”
“No!” she laughed, amused by my naivety. “He wasn’t wearing any shoes!”
mr. jones and me 
is ellsmoyle already standing (i.e standing around) or is that a figure of speech. If she is standing, holycrap you’re getting old. Where does the time go?
My sister once saw a black man in a brown jogging suit riding a bike and proudly told my mom “look mom, there’s a horse riding a bike!” That’s one talented horse
Ellsmoyle was in the pram at the time, and yes I am getting old, thanks so much for drawing attention to it.
awesome story.