My birthday

A kindly old lady came across a little boy sitting on the pavement crying his eyes out.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. ‘It’s my birthday!’ he hollered.

‘And I had a bicycle and a new tracksuit and this afternoon there’s to be a party with crisps and jelly and a birthday cake and a disco afterwards. . .’ and he had to stop talking because he was crying so hard.

‘But that’s lovely,’ said the old lady.

‘Why are you crying?’ ‘Because I’m lost!’

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