Kicking off her shoes, Emma wriggled her toes in the couch that flourished in her garden. With a single step, she was out into the sunlight, her toes coping now with buffalo. With a bunny rug tossed over her shoulder, she cradled Edward in her arms.
She tossed the rug upon the grass, pulling its corners with her toes. Kneeling down, she lay Edward on the rug, a bucket hat protecting his head. Chucking him under the chin, she chatted merrily to the burbling child as she removed his moist cloth nappy. The delicate skin on the backside was a bright shade of pink, and she had prescribed a dose of sun and air as remedy.
Edward rolled onto his tummy and dragged himself to the edge, his face recoiling in mild distaste as his fingers touched the buffalo, the bark, and the spiky needle of the towering Norfolk pine.