Love And A Strong Nose.

"Mum, when you were away ... a wart grew on my arm."

We're not really a wart family, so I was surprised. I turned to look and laughed so hard. He popped that strawberry and cream wart in his mouth, smiling.

The other night I was kissing him goodnight. He told me how excited he was about his mates coming over this weekend, pointed to where everybody was going to sit when they watch movies.

"PLEASE can we watch Saw?" 

There is no WAY he is watching Saw. Told him if he wants to start watching horror, he'll have to start with some classics like Jaws and Alien. We bargained for a while. Parenthood turns you into an awesome and deftly skilled negotiator.

In a restaurant the other day, munching on green chicken curry he announced:

"You know, the universe has actually got NO end."

I put my arms around him and drew him close.

"Welcome to the mystery, my friend."

Last week I showed a photo of him to some new Indian friends. They remarked on how strong his nose is, how it would see him through life very well.

I already knew this. Nobody has ever commented on it before - it's true. He has the nose of a Roman Emperor. I built that nose, in my tummy.

That nose came out spread across his face all wide, from being stuck in the birth canal so long. One of the midwives told me to gently squeeze it back into shape, every day.

I never did.