We have actual snow here for the first time in years. Leicester weather usually upholds the city’s market-leader status as most average place on earth, so our reasonable dusting of powder here equates to national crisis elsewhere; I understand that London is deserted save the occasional fur-clad alpha male doing battle with enraged woolly mammoths. Mr Bones has trudged off to work looking like an Arctic explorer, leaving Baby Bones and I snugged up under the duvet.
I am happy about being under the duvet for a number of reasons, not least of which is the added opportunity to admire and enjoy our new bed linen from John Lewis. I feel I should get as much pleasure from this stuff as possible since Saturday’s expedition to buy it ended up being so stressful. The main focus of our shopping trip was a highchair, now that Baby Bones is fixating on everything we eat and drink, but of course we couldn’t just buy the highchair and take it home – we had to buy it, take it home, set it up, find the piece that instantly pinged off, take it apart again, put it back in its box and return it to the store in exchange for a non-faulty version. Mr Bones and I both like JL, but not enough to warrant going twice in one day.
Still, we all survived and Baby Bones has had his first taste of sitting at the table. Let the actual eating of food begin! (When he’s ready, of course – I think he’s still at the “I’m interested but I don’t know why” stage of comprehension when it comes to watching us eat. Despite my stepmother’s insistence over Christmas that I should “put a dab of custard on his lips, let him get the taste for it”.)