The Way I See Things



"Woss your hanz!"  says the Boy Wonder whenever he sees a hand basin. (Or indeed, a bidet.) It's good advice, obviously, but the emphatic tone he uses makes me think that it's something he must hear every nursery day lunchtime, as the staff attempt to round up their charges and hose them down after the morning's activities, prior to feeding them lunch. If they all enjoy wossing their hanz as much as B does, getting them to the meal table may be a bit of a performance.

The Welsh contingent joined us this afternoon, and we had a lovely time giving the Boy his presents, and helping him play with them until dinner time. The grown-ups had smoked salmon, but the Boy declined - "Fish?" "No." "Meat?" "No." "Fishy meat?" "No." - and ate risotto instead. After B had gone to bed we had puddings and cheese, with an exchange of gifts in the middle. There was much chat and laughter, and I felt very happy and very lucky.

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