Collection

R and I went to Slimbridge today, in unforecast freezing fog, to meet up with L, G and B, and bring B home with us for an overnight stay. The transfer didn't go quite as smoothly as planned, owing to the Boy Wonder having been sick all over himself and his car seat during the journey out of Wales into Gloucestershire. L and I took him into the Ladies in the toilet block in the car park, which mercifully is well heated, so we were able to do a decent job of stripping him down, cleaning him up, and getting him into fresh clothes. He was amazingly composed and co-operative about all of this, right up to the point at which another customer, after washing her hands, started the big hand dryer on the wall - when all hell broke loose as the Boy, shrieking at the top of his voice, literally tried to climb up my leg into the safety of my arms.

Order restored, we went back to the menfolk, who'd now finished transferring all of B's paraphernalia from one car to the other, and L and G began saying their goodbyes. "OK, darling," said L, "Daddy and I are going to go now. You're going to go with Grandma and Granddad, and we -" "Bye!" said the Boy, waving a dismissive hand, and set off at a fast trot, pursued by R and me, abandoning his parents with barely a backward glance.

By the time we made it into the main building the café was rammed, but via the liberal use of charm and elbows I managed to get us a table, and ultimately some food. Evidently recovered from his gastric upset, B powered through most of my curried butternut squash soup and quite a lot of R's as well, along with some lentil crisps and a piece of cherry cake. We then made a quick tour of the collection ponds, which were substantially frozen, but even though there were fewer birds around than usual and they weren't all that easy to see through the heavy mist, B was interested and engaged and clearly enjoyed the experience. R (who these days finds extreme cold intolerable) was less impressed, though he did say later that he'd be happy to visit Slimbridge again on a warmer and brighter day.

As soon as we got home the Boy unpacked the box of toys we keep for his visits, with sweet little exclamations of surprise and pleasure ("Oh! Phone! Ah! Din'saur! Open dis pease!") as things he'd forgotten about appeared from the depths of the box. He then supervised me while I cooked pesto pasta ("No chream!"), and ate a hefty portion, though insisting that every morsel of bacon had to be removed from it. "But I thought you liked bacon?" I said (he does). "No!" said B. "No meat today."

After his vegetarian dinner he was helping R to load the dishwasher while I hand-washed the frying pan, when we all suddenly realised that I'd allowed a jet of water from the kitchen tap to bounce off the rim of the pan and spray across the floor. "Oh no!" I said. "Look at this mess. Silly grandma! I'll have to clean it up." "Don' wuwwey," said B. "I do it." Then, looking around, he said, "Towel...? Ah!", trotted over to his high chair, grabbed the tea towel we'd used as a makeshift bib to stop him getting pesto on his jumper, brought it back to the sink, and began energetically wiping up the water. After a couple of minutes of this he was making quite effortful noises, so I said, "Thank you, darling - that's really kind and helpful - but shall I do the rest now?" "NO!" said the Boy. "Paper!", dropping the tea towel and pointing a peremptory finger at the kitchen roll dispenser; and once provided with some kitchen paper, he proceeded to finish the job.

One way and another it was quite an eventful day, so I guess it's not surprising that after bath and stories the Boy went quickly off to sleep. I'm pretty sure that R and I will not be long in following him.