Umbrella

Smugly, Hazel erects an unfamiliar umbrella.
"It's my new umbrella," she claims.
"I don't think so," I reply, "whose is it? Is it Hilary's?" a silly question now I think about it because although I saw Hilary in the rain yesterday it wasn't at our house.
"I don't know," she says, "what does it smell like?"
We sniff the umbrella. It smells unperfumed but artificial, not like the rainy day I was expecting.
"It smells like shop!" It does indeed, but does that bring us closer to solving the mystery?

I don't think so, so I come and write this. As I type I hear in the bathroom where Iris is having a shower,
"No, not you come in my shower!"
"I'm not coming into your shower, but I'm showing you this little house. It is already so clean it is new, see?"
Noises of the shower door opening, a little scuffle, and closing.
"Oh, it doesn't fit in my door."

Hazel is now under the umbrella in the playroom and Iris says she's finished in the shower, perhaps it's my turn.