The Brown Hand Gang meets again

School was uneventful. We played 'Hand Tennis' (volleyball) and looked words up in a French dictionary and I am one of several people working towards a "Pen Licence" which will enable me to use a pen in polite conversation.
For advanced students, an "Ink Pen Licence" is available.
But I didn't get hurt today which is practically a first although someone twisted his ankle and there was blood everywhere and he had to call a Doctor and use a wheelchair.
I missed World Book Day by not caring and hastened to the park where we scored heavily on Known Faces.
Owen, Destroyer of Worlds seems to always be there, but I also had Ben, Robert, Laughing Boy Thomas, Brandon the boy who won't pass the ball, LittleMax, Jack W and Poppy.
We broke away from the main football game and then a few of us went to the climbing tree and it was good, until the poo hit the fan. OK, there was no fan, but as Robert and Owen and Ben and LittleMax and Poppy and I were up the tree, it became obvious that dogs still use the undergrowth for toiletry purposes and we'd all trodden in it.

Then, when you climb, us sure-footed mountain goats sure put our feet on the branches and then also grab those branches so the poo goes around and soon all of us were the Brown Hand Gang.
Some amongst us dipped their hands in Poppy's waters but the sensible ones (all those beginning with M) went to the village hall where they have such luxuries as handwash, hot water and towels.
We even got half an hour of Lego, let's hope the brown-ness had gone by then.