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The Third Baby

The weather today, in case you’re interested, is unseasonably cold. Seasonably warm weather gives us the gift of flies – a plethora of flies. A subsequent day and a half of unseasonably cold weather gives us the gift of a plethora of slow, dull-witted flies, buzzing about ineffectually on our window sills.

In other news, we are now officially a family with a toddler in our midst, which is somewhat like saying that we are now officially a family under siege. Although of course it’s distinctly different, since if we were really under siege we could fight back. He is still at that deeply charming stage of toddlerhood where he staggers about looking chuffed with himself and falls over quite a lot. Make no mistake, however, this is merely a clever ruse designed to distract us from his primary occupation; roving the house being endearingly (and sometimes rather shockingly) mischievous.

Not mischievous at all...

Not mischievous at all…

He is also, coincidentally, quite captivated by those tiny buzzing creatures forming conclaves on our window sills. He has spent a good chunk of the day hunting them with single-minded determination and a well-developed pincer grip.

Triumphant!

Triumphant!

This is the second one he caught. I flicked the first away with my foot when he wasn’t looking, but he was so disappointed to have lost it that I didn’t have the heart to do it again.

Examining his catch

Examining his catch

This must be the mark of a third baby. With the first, you reach for the disinfectant; with the second, you reach for the soap and with the third, you reach for the camera. We did wash his hands afterwards, of course. It’s not like he’s a fourth baby!

"Look, Daddy!"

“Look, Daddy!”

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