Dot writes: I hear there’s some sort of kerfuffle going on across the pond (not the big pond with Bermuda in it, the small pond with ferries in it). Asked to choose between three almost identical parties, the British electorate haven’t, and now the least popular of the three parties – the one I usually vote for, as it happens – has to choose which of the other two wins. I had a clever idea for a post about this in which I would argue that the Queen should ask Frank to form a government, because he would obviously unite the country in a way no other candidate could (everybody likes babies), and he would be unlikely to ruin the NHS. I thought I could go on to list all the policies he might be expected to support, such as longer maternity leave, investment in brassiere manufacture, and incentives to avoid car journeys. But then it occurred to me it was a silly idea. He is much too busy.
He’s not quite crawling, but he is exercising furiously pushing up onto all fours, doing baby press-ups, and occasionally managing to hop forward slightly on both knees. As of Thursday he can get from his tummy into a sitting position. Between sitting back, pushing forward, twisting and rolling he can cover a lot of ground, but never in quite the direction he wants. He makes cross “mmmm! mmmm!” noises as he struggles, but he keeps on going.
He does occasionally take a break, however, to mouth the many exciting objects in his infant world, and enjoy (or not) the company of his big brother. Here they both are in the garden this afternoon. By the way, Hugh reached two-and-a-half years old today.