Forgetting things

He planned to bring a book out into the garden. Being careful at the door and step, he backed out delicately, then walked towards me across the lawn.
Halfway, he looked down at his hands, pulled a puzzled face and realised he’d left the book behind. He had concentrated so hard on getting down the step that he’d let go of it. He went back for it, giving me time to giggle quietly at the cuteness of his befuddled face.

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