Allowed to select a snack after his afternoon nap, the Boy Wonder unhesitatingly chose a box of raisins. The first half was easy, but by this time he was having more trouble getting them out of the box, and was becoming slightly frustrated. However, my offer to tip them out onto the coffee table was met with a firm refusal, and the box being clutched to his chest to make sure I couldn’t wrest it away from him. It’s a terrible thing to be suspected of being the kind of grandmother who would steal a baby’s favourite snack – especially as I don’t much like raisins. Chocolate might be a different issue.
Words and phrases of the day: “cheese”, “all gone” (which sounds like Gorgon with the initial ‘g’ missed off), and “oh no”.
“Oh no” had us all in tucks over the course of the day, because he says it like a 1950s aristocrat – “air nair” is the closest I can get – and we kept saying that he was channelling the Queen. Somehow this piece of silliness made me feel her death – which was announced just as R and I arrived back home, though it had felt as if the country was being forewarned since late morning – more personally than I might have done otherwise.
I’m not a monarchist, but Elizabeth II has been Head of State in this country since before I was born, and her death, at a time when the UK is in political and economic turmoil, makes everything feel even more unstable than it did yesterday. On the other hand, after dedicating herself for seventy years to a job she didn’t ask for in the first place, but saw as a sacred duty, I think she deserves to go peacefully to her long rest.