It was a new day in the little family-run farm. The sounds of the cattle and chickens toned up the life in that house.
"Charlie, if you are going to Granny Lisda's place again, bring this," the young boy's mother held a basket filled with blocks of butter and 2 jars of fresh yogurt. "Give it to her as a thanks for the last time's pies and breads."
"But the owner said it's a payment for the eggs and milk." The young boy received the basket with hesitation.
"What are you talking about? Those were simply an over payment. We have to return the favour."
The boy smiled, he understood that was how his mother showed her attention to him, and also to the old lady.
"Oh, don't forget to sell these tomatoes in the market and go buy some sugar." She pushed another basket to the boy's little hand.
"How am I supposed to bring these baskets?" He pouted.
"You can use the bicycle, little boy," his mother ruffled his hair lightly, "but be sure to not lose it. Park your bicycle at Granny Lisda's place. The market isn't that far for walking right?" She turned back and walked to the kitchen.
"Are you sure I can take the bike to the city?" He was excited. His voice was risen to high notes.
"Yeah, I am sure. Just be careful, right on the side of the street, and don't rush." But the boy couldn't listen to it, he already dashed outside the house and rode his bicycle, whistling.
The boy smiled, he understood that was how his mother showed her attention to him, and also to the old lady.
"Oh, don't forget to sell these tomatoes in the market and go buy some sugar." She pushed another basket to the boy's little hand.
"How am I supposed to bring these baskets?" He pouted.
"You can use the bicycle, little boy," his mother ruffled his hair lightly, "but be sure to not lose it. Park your bicycle at Granny Lisda's place. The market isn't that far for walking right?" She turned back and walked to the kitchen.
"Are you sure I can take the bike to the city?" He was excited. His voice was risen to high notes.
"Yeah, I am sure. Just be careful, right on the side of the street, and don't rush." But the boy couldn't listen to it, he already dashed outside the house and rode his bicycle, whistling.
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