My legs are tired

“My legs are tired,” Sam says.

“Mine too,” I say.

It’s cold and wet and I decided to take the bus and walk to our local playground, instead of the car. We still had 100m to go.

“Can you carry me?” Sam asked.

“No, no, you’ve got legs.”

“Can you carry me?” asks Emily.

“Nope.”

Anna choses wisely not to ask. But all three are dragging their feet. When we get to the gate of the park, they can see the playground and they’re off. They play for an hour, non stop. Up the climbing frame, on the swings, see-saw, obstacle course, play house…

I struggle to get them out. “Come on, time to go, I’m going, it’s time, daddy’s waiting at home, come one, the bus is coming, time for home, let’s get back now… ”

When I finally get them out of the park gate, Sam says, “my legs are tired.”

How is that possible?