In truth I felt like a wilted weed.
I couldn't pedal to Camden with my son's beautiful weight on the back of Zat.
I felt wobbly, I felt shaky, I felt a little trembly.
I needed something solid.
Something solid with four wheels, not two
The wheels of the bus go round and round
The bell on the bus goes tingalingaling
The baby on the bus goes wah wah wah
(though not my chatterbox child, never, always been a brilliant travelling companion)
This mamma on the bus says I love you!
All day long!
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