Family Matters
No sooner was the child born than Anna, my wife, was booked on to the first Ryanair flight back to the UK. Our granddaughter had been born two and a half weeks early, which threw our plans out of the window. I was working and could wait a fortnight to meet Ari, 7lb 7oz (Ari as in R.E., not Ari as in 'Arry [Redknapp]). Anna couldn't wait to get her hands on new-born flesh so was flying over immediately, staying in a Travelodge for three nights (supporting the new parents, when needed), flying back to Poitiers, having a week to recover and then driving back to the UK (I don't fly), with me, as originally planned. Apart from being jaundiced, having a lump on her head and being tongue-tied (all now resolved) the baby was perfect in every way, Anna reported back after her initial visit. I had run through various scenarios in my head of the first meeting with my granddaughter; I would be handed the child, raise her to the heavens (like Simba in the Lion King or Kunta Kinte in R...