Come sit with me, Ted, and I will tell you of a boy’s world’s wonders, waiting to be yours.

Of bouncing balls, sunny days, mud-cake kitchens and rainy-day holidays.

Of water-hoses giggle-sprayed in paddling pools and grinning-faces, of soaking-clothes and sopping-feet and people dodging, cackle-fleeing.

Of fishing trips to beaches made of rock and sand, where eels patrol and mackerel swarm, where sun-beats give us squint-eyed frowns.

These are the facts of a young boy’s life, and these are the facts that you and I like.

Of time spent jungling with leopards and triceratops.

Of adventures with back-packs and super-caps, photographing evidence for scrap-books and treasure-maps.

Of tap-running, floor painting, showers and mirth, paw patrol snack times and bike rides without a shirt.

These are the times that a young boy knows.

These are the times when true love shows.

These are the times we all love to own.

These are the times when true life has slown.