There’s a light drizzle, so I’m in the back of the car doing up seatbelts when the door slams. Due to the rather helpful childlocks, I cannot open the rear passenger doors from the inside. I am forced to scramble over the front seats, and sit squarely in the crumbs of the biscuits that Squiggle and Scooter deny eating while I was getting the rest of the things in the car.
It then starts to drizzle, whereupon, Pixie requests that I put on the splat things,
“You know…” she continues, when I don’t comply, “they go splat” and then enlarges that with a quick demonstration in the manner of the start of pat-a-cake.
After some careful questioning, it turns that she, in fact, means windscreen wipers.