Belfast Boy

“Daddeee!  Help!  Daddeeee!”

I’m sure that’s what I’m shouting, because I’m very scared. I’ve climbed right to  the top of a large heap of straw and pig manure, and the crust has broken and I’m sinking down in.

And me in my new wellies, one of which is getting stuck and nearly covered in stinky stuff.  They were probably red wellies, though I can’t remember that for sure. But I know I am wearing wellies.  Mummy put them on nice and new and clean when she let me out to play in the farmyard by myself.  But they won’t be much help if the manure gets over the top of them. Or over the top of me! Help!

I’m three years old, more or less, and this is the first thing in my life that I remember – sinking into a heap of yukky pig manure! I must have thought it looked a lot of fun to climb up that big pile. It looked like a mountain to tiny little me. But then it got all squelchy at the top. And now I’m stuck and sinking!