“SNOW, darling!” exclaims Mummy, bounding down the stairs in delight, “Your first snow!” The little one yawns and stretches, nonplussed by Mummy’s excitement.
“LOOK darling!” insists Mummy, pressing The Baby’s little nose against the windowpane. “LOOK! Snow! Your first snow!” The window is cold. RB, still half-asleep, mistakes it for breakfast and tries to suck it.
Mummy throws open the back door and inhales the crisp morning air. “Can you SMELL the snow, darling? Doesn’t it smell divine?” she enthuses, thrusting a bemused baby into the chilly winter sunshine in just her PJs. RB blinks and wriggles, confused by Mummy’s strange behaviour.
“Feel the snow! FEEL IT, darling!” insists Mummy, holding the little one towards the glistening, snow-topped garden fence. Rebel Baby grabs a handful of the cold stuff and rams it down Mummy’s pyjama top.
Baby – 1, Mummy – 0