Today was Family Day. A brief expedition to buy a book of stickers for him and various striped clothing items for Dad (good to share such things publicly) provided a comedy highlight.  In a quick detour for fresh air, we’ve bumped into a great friend, a magnificent political guy snatching a precious moment of family life as the General Election takes his life over.

But largely, fuelled by excellent coffee and the relaxation that comes the day after a fun concert, we’ve been chilling. It’s been a day of Lego, interspersed with psychedelic history reenactment as the well-drilled Playmobil forces of a miniature Augustinian Legion have defended a carpet-travelling bin lorry about its business.  And it’s been a day for movies. We’ve laughed uproariously at Shaun the Sheep, missed every plot point of Wallace & Gromit, and howled with mirth at Paddington Bear’s aquatic descent of the stairs in his bath.

The best bit has been Snow White. This miniature-macho, footballing, rugby-tackling, reading-and-writing, Dad-apeing Big Boy has been gazing open mouthed as Snow White and the Seven  Dwarves sing and dance in lovely vintage Disney technicolour. If we could have one wish it’s that he’d never grow older.