Jekyll and ... solanum

Granddaughter is a dear little soul and on the whole very jolly. But occasionally, like any other baby, she is less impressed with life and lets us know this. It's comical but at the same time a bit stressful when babies are suddenly distraught - as if their entire worlds had crumbled - when you restrain them from putting their hands on the hot oven door or dropping a heavy glass paperweight on their foot. They yell louder than you would think possible; they weep hot tears; they dribble copiously from their tragic mouths.

Once, somewhere, I remember reading about a chap's reaction on seeing a baby - it might have been his own, newly-born one - and not finding it particularly attractive. As far as I remember, the chap said that he was handed "a sort of roaring tomato". And this describes rather well Granddaughter's instant change from being a jocular, tolerant sort of person to being - well, a roaring tomato. (She's got quite rosy cheeks, rather like her Granny (sorry, little L)).

Most of the time she's lovely, though. Yesterday I took her with me to have coffee with friends and she just sat on the sofa beside me the whole time, beaming and playing with her toys. So yummy.