when me, my mum and my dad moved to brentwood, my parents needed to find themselves a child minder. the first one, was actually the lady we had bought our house from. it didn’t work out. the second one, i vaguely remember but i wasn’t there long. it didn’t work out. but the third one, well that was mrs child. mrs child the childminder. an appropriate name if ever you could have one. even now writing this, i couldn’t bring myself to write about her by her first name, 30 years on she is still mrs child, and i’m sure she is too all, that she ever looked after.
