Late getting to sleep != late waking up. Sometimes he just doesn't want to go back to sleep. It turns out what he really wanted to do was push a wee doll pushchair back and forth in the kitchen, occasionally adding a toast crumb to the copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar in the seat, which was sort of logical, if presumably unintentional. Eventually we headed out to Pollock Park to meet up with everyone we met up with yesterday, diverting into the Burrell collection when it started raining. By the time we arrived it had stopped, though briefly started again a couple of times. I've never been round there before and still effectively never have in a viewing capacity, only catching the occasional glimpse of the occasional thing whilst shadowing Edgar on his Brownian way through the exhibits, picking up the little bits of half-chewed apple scattered in his wake.

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