Of course, as much fun as it is getting yourself so caked in mud your clothes can literally stand up on their own when you take them off, some poor mother has the task of cleaning them after all the fun is over.
Dan and his best friend played rugby in the pouring rain recently, with heavy legs but soaring spirits. And I snapped this photo as they waited on the sideline, keen to get back into the thick of the action.
Honestly, I look at that photo and it makes my heart fair swell.
Except while I was stood over the kitchen sink scraping inches-thick mud from his rugby boots. I was probably chuntering obscenities under my breath and vowing to sign him up to ballet classes then.
This post is for Week 48 of The Gallery: One word.
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