It’s 07:31 on Tuesday 3rd January 2017.
As the hastily-grabbed selfie shows, I’m being force-fed very small peanut butter sandwiches. My glasses, now covered in the sticky delight, have learned to stay out of the way, but my mouth has no choice because Alice has decided that we need to share part two of her breakfast…
This is the reality of our Australian adventure, and something wonderful is happening… I’m getting to bond with my granddaughter.
When she was born we had only a little time together. Matt and Medi, my son and our daughter-in-law, lived in Rotherhithe, across the river Thames from Canary Wharf.
We live in Cumbria, which is as far from London as you can get without entering Scotland.
The inevitable result was that we didn’t get chance to spend enough time with infant Alice for her to remember us. When we arrived in Australia, a few days ago, we were strangers to her…
Now, though, here in Adelaide’s Crafers West, with Matt just departed for a full day of Doctor’s duties at the Royal Adelaide Hospital; Medi expected home soon from the same job after a full night shift, and Bernie nursing a cup of tea in bed, I’m alone with the little darling.
For the past two days, she has been losing her uncertainty and, hopefully, discovering that Grandad smells a lot like Daddy… We are having a wonderful time.
It’s quite nice, a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast, even if the waitress is a little rough with those tiny hands…
©Stephen Tanham, 2017.