Henry and I were the first up this morning. We chatted quietly as we set the breakfast table together. Every now and again, he would cough a tiny cough. After the fifth or sixth cough, I started to worry a bit.
Me: What's that? You keep coughing.
Henry: It's just a biscuit cough, Dad. Not one to tell about.
Which, is almost a direct quote from A.A. Milne. Which made me very very very happy. Especially after the cough went away.
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