After months of not seeing my youngest grandchild, he came to live with me, alongside my daughter and her partner. I love it, even if my washing machine does not
I can hear him now, chatting away to his mum in between fits of shrieking giggles. I love this sound, just as I love the look of permanent surprise he has whenever he sees me. In my room, in the living room, in the kitchen, in the garden. His expression always seems to say: “WHAT are you doing in my house?”
For my house is now his house. I had not planned to be living with a baby at this stage of my life, but then I had not planned for a pandemic.
