“Shall we hide under the kitchen table?” said Nanny as Tiffany tried to brush mud and cabbage off her dress. Then Nanny winked. “If it is going to explode?”
Her son Shawn came around the house with a bucket of water in each hand and stopped, looking disappointed that there was nothing to do with them.
“What was it, Mum?” he panted.
Nanny looked at Tiffany, who said: “Er… a giant rock fell out of the sky.”
“Giant rocks can’t stay up in the sky, miss!” said Shawn.
“I expect that’s why this one fell down, lad,” said Nanny briskly. “If you want to do something useful, you can stand guard and make sure nobody comes near it.”
“What shall I do if it explodes, Mum?”
“Come and tell me, will you?” said Nanny.

– mothering |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith