You can tell by the shirt hingin' oot from under the extra large homemade jersey, that I had just been running around playing before stopping off for a wee cold treat to cool myself down.
This is me in August 1963, aged 5, in my last moments of freedom before being dragged off to school for the first time shortly afterwards.
However, if I can draw your attention to the barkit knees, if you haven't already spotted them, then here we have ample evidence that before my ice lolly break, I'd probably been muckin' aboot playing futba aroond the backies or clambering around the garden trying to catch bees in a jar filled with clover!
Forget designer grunge and shabby chic, this is the real thing, maaan!
I didn't think it was fair to have my brother be put on display for this public humiliation, so I've cropped him out, although I've cunningly kept his Johnny X'rs in shot!