Froggy.

This is Froggy. Here, taking a bath in Kerry’s Wash Day Granules (Go visit her, if only to view her delicious new about me page!), after Finley vomited on him.

Next to Bear, Yellow Bear and Tigger, Froggy is Finleys N.B.F, after twelve months in the wilderness of the bottom of his cot- which I always thought a terrible shame seen as the way we came by him was froggy proof that the world is still a kind place to be…

We were in T.K.Maxx. Finley was six months old, and I was tired and penniless. Grabbing the leg of a green stuffed frog, he proceeded to shriek about it and when I took it off him, sobbed like it was the end of the world. But it didn’t matter: I wasn’t in the mood for giving in , and even if I had, I didn’t have the £7.99 Froggy would cost…

"No Finley, Put him back. Mummy hasn’t got enough pennies today." I told him and after a quick wander round the bedding section (I’m always on the lookout for Ralph Lauren floral pillowcases) I made my way to the door.

I was just outside the shop when there was an onimous tap on my shoulder. Checking Finley didn’t have a bra wrapped round his head or a couple of candlesticks stashed under his pram, I swung round ready to face security, and found instead an elderly couple smiling at me…

"We hope you don’t mind Sweetheart, but we heard what you said to your son, and seen as you didn’t have the money to buy that lovely frog, we have bought him for your gorgeous little boy. We don’t have grandchildren of our own…"

My eyes filled up as I hugged two perfect strangers. Finley beamed and yet again I was reminded that the world isn’t such a bad place after all.

Kindness matters. Let’s pay it forward.