I was touched tonight (although thankfully not illegally).
Regular readers (i.e. my mum, so just one then) will know that I took a tumble a week and a half ago whilst out training for the Great North Run.
And, when I got back, cut to shreds and with at least one rib broken, I told Jamie all about it.
All was, I thought, forgotten until I laced my trainers up this evening in preparation for my comeback trot.
"Daddy, are you going to run very fast?" asked White Jnr.
"I'll be trying my best," I replied, "but I never run very fast - so no."
"Daddy, you should walk and not run very fast," said Jamie. "Because then you'll not fall over and hurt yourself."
My first reaction was to feel touched and proud of my little boy.
My second was to think that he'd been telling his nursery pals his dad's a wimp.
I'm not sure which instinct was correct, but I've decided to stick solely with conclusion one.
NB: Should you wish to sponsor me (and Wee John) for the Great North Run, I'd heartily encourage you to do so. You can find out why we're doing it and how you can cough up by clicking here.
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