A song for Joel

Ruth Crockett, 52, Liverpool

As the ice-cream van sounded in the street, my youngest boy Joel, then 5, jumped up and down.

‘Can I have an ice cream, Mum?’ he pleaded.

‘OK,’ I smiled, handing him a fiver.

But when Joel walked back, he was clutching five ice creams.

‘What are you doing?’ I cried as they dripped through his fingers.

‘You gave me £5, so I got five,’ he said innocently.

‘I meant for you to get one and give me the change,’

I sighed, shaking my head.

Then, the next week, I gave him £5 for ice cream