“Oh no, not again, Mum, mum there’s something wrong with me,”
”What’s wrong Billy,” said his mother with a smile, “and why do you keep on going to that little tree and standing in front of it?”
”Well you remember when I was three, you stood me up to it and made that mark where my head was?”
”Yeeess, why, did it bother you?”
”Well you told me that that would be half my height I’d be when I grow up.”
”That’s right dear, that’s what they say. Why do you keep on checking it?”
”Well, mum, I’m getting smaller and smaller. I was a lot taller then, I’m never going to reach twice the height that mark is now.
When the pen takes control. 
A delightful story Bob. I just love this little guy!
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Aww, poor little Billy!
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I’m sure he’ll work it out one day
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