Philip Burton 09/02/2008 If she fell outside somewhere and raked her knee she'd get back up tearfully and find her Mum and me and show us what she'd done. Nothing faked. It had to be the real event. She'd never just tell you. She'd rather dent. She'd look you in the face, and, as large as I live, with no regard for pain, she'd throw herself down, and hurt herself again in the very same place. And she'd say, That's what I did, Dad. That's what I did, Mum. Then she'd run off and play.