Me: Baby Snail is here and they are both tired but safe and well.
Nell: A great relief. I’m not sure it was necessary for David to sing it from the rooftops.
Me: He was pleased.
Nell: We know.
Me: It was nice of the roofers to join in, though.
Nell: Yes. And most unexpected. Some of those harmonies were impressive.
Me: Can you believe Baby Snail arrived exactly on her due date?
Nell: Of course. We are a family of strong punctual women.
Me: I’m not sure about the punctual bit.
Nell: Do you like to be on time?
Me: Yes, although I prefer being early to be honest.
Nell: Stop quibbling. Now, I’ve written a poem for Baby Snail. Would you like to hear it?
Me: Yes, please.
Nell: ‘Welcome to our world, little one.
The fun for you has just begun.
So many stories we can tell
Of life in Devon with Auntie Nell.’
Me: But you aren’t her aunt.
Nell: Stop interrupting. I can be anything I like.
Me: Yes. I suppose you can.
Nell: Where was I? Oh yes.
‘Building sandcastles, riding a wave,
Singing and dancing with Gladys and Dave.
Scones with Poppy, first jam then cream,
Books with Harriet, daring to dream.
By the fire with Mutley, just having a chat,
Sequins and sparkles and fun with The Cat.
Giggles with Grandpa and Jonathan Sky,
Mummy and Papa are always nearby.
‘Tell me a story, Granny’, you’ll say,
‘What did you and Nell do today?’
And as you listen you’ll know that it’s true,
You’re made of love and we all love you.’
Me: She will know that, won’t she?
Nell: Of course she will. Always.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
