I saw it in the window of the Samaritans charity shop when I walked down to the Strand Parade first thing this morning to buy Mr B’s Daily Mail.
It was sandwiched between a plastic jungle train (two animals missing, said the notice on top of it) and a large toy cash register but, eagle-eyed that I am, I spotted it straightaway. Into the shop I went, with 50p clutched in my
hot, little hand all ready.
“Ha, ha!” said the volunteer behind the counter, “You’re going to have some fun with that!” This of course
meant that everyone else who was in the shop at the time turned round to see exactly what it was that was going to enliven my days and ensure a fun-filled future. I smiled back at them, a trifle shame-facedly.
“Splish, splash!” the giggling volunteer offered, in case any further explanation was needed. I hastily paid my 50p and scuttled out of the shop tucking away in my shopping bag my prized purchase – one middle-sized
plastic, yellow duck for Faris to play with in the bath when he comes to visit on Saturday.
I am now well kitted out for baby bath-time. I have one of those shaped
foam cushions which “offer reassuring support for baby in the bath.” I have two round baby sponges, a bottle of all-over baby soap and another of baby shampoo (all the better to tackle Young Faris’s curly locks.) And I have a towel with a
hood. All the better to dry him with. I need to stop this because I am starting to sound like the Old Grandmother in the story of Little Red Riding Hood. And we all know what happened to her, don’t we?
All I was lacking was a bath toy or two – in particular, a duck. Every bath should have one. Hence my lucky purchase this morning in the Samaritans charity shop. I do have a rubber goldfish which I picked up at a business
conference years ago (don’t ask!) and a couple of love birds which I bought because I thought they were penguins - but these are all well past their sell-by date. I need to start investing in a whole new set of bath toys.
At the moment, the new duck is swimming merrily in the kitchen sink. I am just testing him out for his floatability and general staying power. I still remember the set of plastic ducks we had when
my Foursome were small – none of them ever swam upright, they always turned over on their sides. I need to make sure that Faris will not be as disappointed as his mother was every bath time when the Duck Family capsized yet again. I have just been to
check on him and I can reassure you all that he is still beautifully buoyant. Faris will be well pleased with me.
My favourite bath toys have to be the singing
dolphins which I bought for two sets of grandchildren when they were small. Oh the number of games of Dolphin Diving School I have played in the past! Faris is a little young at the moment but His Day Will Surely Come.
One of my loveliest birthday presents this year was from Faris’s mum, the Middle of the Darling Daughters. It is a montage, entitled "Conversations with Faris", of all the strange and mysterious
sayings we came up with over the course of our lovely week together just after Young Faris was born. If you were reading the blog during that week, then you might remember at least some of them. “Our Soldier” (when he would lie in his Moses basket,
legs and arms completely straight as if he were all ready to march into some Baby Battle); “King Baby” (when seated in his Super Buggy, master of all he surveyed); “Monkey, monkey” (his favourite toy in his Rainforest Gym); "Rascal"
(that he is!) and, of course, “Milky, milky”(needs no explanation.)
All quite daft, I know. But special. You had to be there to know just how