One good thing about our recent camping exhibition to Mid Wales is that Tom returned with two teeth and the ability to crawl. He now roams the house like a cute, podgy little bulldozer demolishing all in his way and getting his fists into as much trouble as possible. The VCR and PlayStation are all viable targets. As are the house plants – I caught him this morning with a goatee beard made of soil.
The only problem Tom had with camping was the food. As it was impractical to bring and hygienically maintain his normal fare of homemade food we had to resort to the bought kind that comes pre-prepared and processed in jars.
Tom didn’t like it. He absolutely hated the stuff.
Once we were back home though he tucked back into Karen’s homemade food once more with unalloyed gusto.
Karen was really chuffed. Vindication at last for all her sterling efforts to nourish Tom on only the best, organic produce that the UK has to offer. And Tom was clearly a boy who knew the good stuff from the mediocre.
Except a few days later we caught him munching on a dirty bib and my socks with as much abandon as he employs to attack his food.
I’m hoping this odd culinary experiment was purely down to teething...