|Robbie keeping his kisser wet|
|Ball delivered relentlessly to my feet|
He was exactly right. Kicking the ball was fun. And he was vigilant in his promise to keep the ball at my feet, allowing me only moments to experience the routine motion of the rake.
A pile of leaves was not to be wasted. Robbie would dive in with the ball and burrow through, emerging triumphant from the other side with curled leaf decorations over his entire head and the big, blue ball in his mouth.
Robbie played ball. I raked leaves. We were both very well entertained.