1. Before we leave for our walk, I change a nappy and his kicking seems almost serene compared to my spiky boy. Then I help out with a feed. I experience the eye contact that I envied so much during the early days watching members of my NCT group who used bottles.
2. "I'm a twin," confides a lady who has left her walking frame behind to look into the pram. "He died three years ago. I still miss him. We were a pair of terrible twins. My mother says we got into the cupboard and tipped the condensed milk over our heads."
3. "He didn't like the tea," they tell me when I go to pick him up. "He kept hanging round the kitchen asking for 'bic-bic', so we found him half a gingerbread man."
End at the beginning, whistler and no pressure.
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