Having just one baby-sized child is a bit like a trial run for having children in general. For one thing, we’re making everything up as we go along. Every new phase is a bright astonishing thing. For another, he’s pretty good at going everywhere with us. He doesn’t care where we are as long as we’re there and, until fairly recently, hasn’t wanted to move much or make noise. We’ve brought him to shops and restaurants and dinner parties. Even into a confined space with one of my favourite authors and a box of throwable raisins. Yes, even there.
Did I mention he used to not move much?
We went to see Jasper Fforde at My Friend Waterstones this evening. It was terribly exciting. He writes clever, hilarious books about bookish alternate universes. In person, he is lean and charming and rather scatty. He was fabulous to listen to.
Henry had a good time too. After sitting silently in one seat got too difficult and he started liberating the raisins, the nice people at Waterstones let him go explore the philosophy selection. He doesn’t think much of Kant, but he took a shine to the step-ladder. Which was alright, but he kept yelping with joy.
I think we’ll start looking at babysitters when something like this comes up.
Also, I’m pretty sure this now means we are friends forever. Call me, Jasper! We can talk about the Brontes.
Happy weekend, my lovelies. We are headed for a Temple/IKEA double bill tomorrow and have a toad-in-the-hole of mountainous proportions planned for Sunday afternoon. Hope you’ve got something nice on the cards.