The children cycle there. I drive the bike locks there. When I arrive, I narrate the entire bike locks story, with the sub-plot of the lost combination, which takes me a good ten minutes.
In retrospect, I rather like the comment that with my bike lock saga we must have fallen out of an Enid Blyton novel.
Next time I tell the story I am going to build in secret tunnel in a cave under the castle tower on the mountainside where we discover the kidnapping of a prisoner who is a Prince, but in our escape we fall into the clutches of the ruthless robbers. We must go through many adventures against unknown enemies in a raging storm with strange glowing metals, a dog and a sabotaged combination lock before heading for home on our bicycles, where we eat ice cream and enjoy lashings of lemonade.
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