One highlight of my flying visit home was getting to meet the newest addition to the Sumner family: a young man called Fox. He’s not a brand new baby any more but he’s still utterly adorable. Everything a baby should be: chubby, cuddly, and unbelievably chirpy and happy. He spent most of his time giggling and grinning at me and was very entertaining.
As most people who know me will testify, I tend to handle babies like bombs, but I wanted to give him a cuddle and allow his mum to quaff her champagne and scoff her club sandwich. So I gamely scooped him and rested him on my hip. Let me tell you: babies are heavy! We had a bit of a walk round and then peered at ourselves in the mirror for a while (Fox wanted to, honest). I waited for any sort of maternal twinge to hit me, but I can honestly report: nothing. He is utterly divine but I still have zero interest in one of my own.
If you believe the dross that the Daily Mail comes out with then I am going to a) live to regret this, bitterly, or b) be hit in the face by my biological clock and spend the rest of my days trying to get up the spout. I’ll keep you posted, but I’m not holding my breath on either of those points….
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