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Betty was ON FORM.

She chattered.
She tried to sit up.
She laughed.
She blew raspberries.
She played.
She rolled over.
She broke the scales.

What a show off. She is definitely my daughter.

Amongst my cynicism, my rib ticklingly witty ways and my modesty, I must make one point very clear.

I love my daughter. I love her incredibly. I love her wholly. I love her so much that sometimes I can't breathe a bit. (And I don't mean like when I change her bum and I HAVE to hold my breath a bit)

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