We took our little chap to a cafe yesterday. Having popped him into a highchair, we ordered him some ‘bapple juice’ and, as doting parents and grandparents must do many times a day, fell for the Children’s Menu’s promise of a ‘Shortbread Sheep’. With indulgent smiles we ordered this sugary treat for our sweet boy who had been pretty much a paragon all morning since he’d woken, singing to us from his cot.

When the biscuit arrived, wrapped in cellophane, on a small white plate, Oli stared at it in disbelief, quickly followed by a broad smile of sheer delight, turning to each of us in turn, laughing with pleasure. It was a lovely moment and we too laughed and smiled

Seconds later the mood changed dramatically as, in his excitement, he bashed the plate down on the table whereupon the sheep broke in half and its nose fell off.

Bum!

Now he looked between Dave and me with horror, and our hearts sank. The poor little man was heartbroken. I tried to make light of what was clearly really ‘heavy, man’, dancing the two pieces together and pulling them apart again with a jolly laugh and a little song. For a moment I thought I’d cracked it. But then he picked up the chocolate nose and looked at me, beseechingly. ‘Doze’ he said, with a quiver in his voice.

Thus we carried on for a few minutes, with me pointing out that this was in fact food of a sort and ‘look, the other children are eating theirs’. Eventually his sad expression turned to one of disgust at which point he threw the sorry little biscuit pieces to the floor and began to wail.

In hindsight, it’s obvious that there is never going to be a good result when a child forms an emotional attachment to a biscuit.

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My boy (the grandson) has extraordinary focus. No I’m not just bragging, it’s true. People remark on it all the time. He’ll get involved in a toy, or an activity and he’ll be there for 20 minutes utterly involved, concentrating his teeny socks off.

He was like it when he was a little baby. He’d stare for ages at Dave playing the piano – no smile, just staring, taking it all in. He seems to have to process things quite slowly, which, given I’m a ‘knee-jerk-reaction, oh-no-I-got-it-wrong’ kind of person, I’m delighted with! It plays itself out with the whole concentration/focus thing, but also he needs time to think things through.

The other day he was visiting with his uncle whilst his mummy had a job interview. He loves to see me and has been known to be distraught if a visit is cut short or, worst of all, he sees me in the street and I can’t hang about to chat. So, when eventually I said it was time to say goodbye to granny he snuggled up and gave me a long, quiet cuddle. To encourage him along I suggested a kiss goodbye. ‘No’ he said, tucking his head into my neck again. ‘It’s time to say bye bye to granny and go in Uncle Dunc’s car now’ I tried again. This time, with a very serious face, he climbed down and headed for the door. ‘Could granny have a kiss’, I asked again. ‘No’. Then, a few seconds later he stopped in his tracks, stayed still for a moment, then turned round and came over to me. My son thought we were going to have problems getting him out of the house, but no, Oli just wanted to give his granny a kiss and then he set off happily, hand in hand with his uncle.

I love this aspect of his nature. He’s a gentle child and is clearly thoughtful, and deliberate in his actions. What a wonderful recipe for a man-to-be!

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Our wee grandson boy is two next month and the planning is under way. Last week I took delivery of one of our pressies – a wooden doll’s house. He always plays with one of these at a friend’s house and also at nursery, so it feels like a good choice. Of course, there’s the inevitable sexist twaddle to content with, ‘a delight for any little girl’ it says on the ad, but we’re made of stern stuff and will not be bullied into gender-stereotyped compliance! Of course, it could all go belly up if he eschews our present in favour of a ‘real little boy’ toy. That would be an embarrassing moment  for his granny (me, in case you hadn’t realised) who is forever banging on about this particular issue.

Anyway, it arrived as a flat-pack and yesterday I had much fun assembling it. There is lots of furniture but no people so a friend has offered to get a set of little dolls to make it complete. Dolls? Lawks a mercy! Presumably, him being a boy and all, he’ll shoot them out of the end of a spud gun.

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