Nobody is watching me and I am alone in the house with the little girl, so I get down on the floor for a bit and try making daft cooing noises at her over the edge of the sofa. Trying to eke out the interval before she starts crying again. I pop my cheek in my special way and a steady look of interest appears under the eyelashes. I pop the other one. I reach for the feeder cup my daughter left but the head goes solemnly from side to side. Not even the raisins? Come on love, I'm sure that's ketones I can smell.
This is yesterday afternoon as I write, and the thing still hasn't resolved, we don't know where it's going, although I don't think I'd be writing …