Food for thought – but it is best not thinking about this

Following my description of my son’s baby-led weaning, Dorinda trumped me with this: “When my grandsons were visiting in March, I was well prepared for young Ewan, and at meal-times I laid a very large tablecloth on the carpet and replaced two of my cream brocade-covered, antique dining chairs with a spare pair that had seen better days.

Ewan disdained the lovely wholesome ready-prepared baby foods I had bought specially and wanted to eat only what Mummy and Daddy were eating.

This involved Mummy or Daddy chewing it for him and then passing it over. (Yes, this can put you off your dinner).

Anything that didn’t meet with his approval was forcibly ejected – the rhubarb crumble was back out in an instant.

The cat sat under his chair to catch anything that looked interesting.

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Aren’t grandchildren a joy, though?”

Dorinda also inquires after my thermal vests, trusting they are now relegated to the back of the drawer.

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Oh no. Ne’er cast a clout till May is out, Dorinda. I’m keeping them handy in case of a late spring frost.

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