I stand en pointe and stretch as high as I can for the cereal. The tannoy-lady in Asda is shouting about how the store will close in 3 minutes.
My hand flails uselessly along the top of the shelf.
“Can I help?” a voice says behind me.
I turn, smiling ruefully, and look down.
He is holding a baby, dressed entirely in yellow.
“Thanks. I can take her,” I say quickly.
He hands the baby over and she promptly sucks my finger. I coo in spite of my self, and she smiles at me, all crinkly eyes and baby powder.
I feel him staring at me and, quite frankly, ignore him. He puts the cereal in my trolley. I continue to coo.
“Er, can I have her back now?” he says.
I reluctantly hand her over.
And then buy myself a massive box of Roses to cheer myself up.
