I feel a bit squidgy inside, gooey almost. It’s not from the glut of Easter eggs that I have eaten (that has been hampered by the fact that there seemed to be an Easter egg shortage in Hertfordshire this year) but because of fluff, and newborn-ness and big eyes and wobbly, unsure legs. Shall we all just pause for a second to sigh in the most soppy way we can manage?
Ah yes, the hours already spent sighing and egg watching were well worth it. I was pretty worried about the little guy for a while, but a bit of R and R and… well… see for yourself.