It takes me a good 20 minutes to get out of the door.
But every day the dog has to be walked.
And whilst I'm off work, it has been me and the boys that have done it more often than not.
Wellies on, waterproofs on, gloves on.
And off we go.
Usually each walk is uneventful, following the same route. Not too long, not too short.
Yesterday was a little different.
They didn't wear their waterproofs, it was dry....
The sun was shining....
We went to the leaf pile, they were piled high, up past their wellies.
They kicked, threw and laid in them, mummy pushing them back down as they tried to stand up.
How they laughed.
We went on an adventure, through the Gorse, down the sheep tracks...winding this way and that.
And then, Worm saw 'The Gate'.....
The gate that leads to Great Grannies.
And that was it.
The mother of all tantrums.
He threw himself on the floor, in the mud, rolled around screaming, legs flailing!
Mud all down his coat, his trousers, everywhere.
Tears down his face.
I tried to pick him up, but he raises his arms so he slides down through my grip, raises his legs so he falls to the ground.
Under my arm he went, kicking his wellies off as we marched.
He wriggled out of my grasp. My strength, limited, my grip weak. Putting him down, he refused to stand or walk. He sat in the mud, crying, telling me to go through the gate.
I walked ahead, hoping he would panic and follow, but all I got was Monkey shouting at me, "Don't leave him, I love Worm."
Half an hour we battled.
Half an hour of lifting, putting him down, letting him get on with it, sat in the mud, screaming and crying.
We got home, just before the rain. He was marched down the road, knowing there was no hope of going back, in his socks, Monkey carrying his wellies.
I stripped the muddy clothes off him in the porch, another pile of washing.
And then like Butter wouldn't melt, he went and sat on the sofa and started singing Twinkle Twinkle in that lovely angelic voice!!