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Sunday lunch at the in-laws, where my mother-in-law has gone spiraliser crazy and we had a spiralised main course and pudding. Who would have thought turning courgettes and apples into spaghetti shapes would be so delicious? But maybe increasing the surface area of your food in this way brings out more of the flavour. In the future, in space, everyone will eat like this. It was a delicious and healthy repast.
Unsurprisingly I was still super tired (and hadn’t been able to get a lie-in this morning even though I was allowed one) and after lunch, as I seem to do with increasing frequency here, I fell asleep on the sofa. I pretty much never sleep in the day time anywhere else but at my in-laws, so they must think I am a right lazy sod. But as I seem to be struggling to sleep at night time in my bed, maybe I should come round here every day for a post-prandial snooze on the sofa. Perhaps it’s all to do with the fact that I know there are lots of people to take care of my baby. And anyway, my family-in-law aren't complaining. Every second I am asleep gives them more time to physical and mentally hobble any haughty children who come to their door.
My daughter remained unaffected and non-supercilious, so she was safe. She’s just about to get super-mobile and can already get round a room pretty quickly holding on to furniture and we went on a few walks round the lounge with her holding my hand. It’s so weird to see her as a tiny walking person rather than a little baby on all fours. The next round of fears and trouble is about to start. But I am cherishing every change and loving the little nonsense conversations she has with herself. She makes herself laugh during these, so is certainly taking after her dad: talking shit and laughing at one’s own jokes. That’s the Herring motto.
And she’s fast in other ways too. A box of chocolates was being handed round and before my wife could stop her, Phoebe had grabbed a chocolate and stuffed it in her gob, where it disappeared like a peripheral character in a film falling into quicksand or a lava pit. Luckily it wasn’t too complex a filling, but the way she darted into that box and disposed of her stolen sweet also reminded me of myself. I can pass own the family business of shop-lifting small amounts of pick n mix to her, no problem.
With a five night stint away from home I am relishing these days off with my family. I know that I am likely to miss massive leaps forward (maybe literally) when I am on the road. By the time I see my daughter next weekend I think there’s a good chance she will be toddling along under her own steam. But I will also miss the mundane things like feeding her and sitting her on the toilet and seeing her do a poo that seems too big to have been in her tiny body. Both the fact that she manages this on a toilet and the size of the poo are equally pleasurable. There have been times when I have felt like calling my wife into the bathroom to bear witness to some of my own more impressive excretions, but I have never done that. But there is no need for such modesty with my daughter. I might even set up a website. I can’t see that ever embarrassing her in later life. Nor should it. The other Herring motto is “Be proud of your effluent and if necessary showcase it on a websiteâ€. And given that motto has been in the family for over twenty generations that shows remarkable scatological foresight on behalf of my ancestors.
If you're reading this in the future and feeling embarrassed Phoebe then I would remind you to look at the family mottos and rethink.
