To my darling second born,

Every Thursday, in the yawning gap between our morning walk and nap time, we pack up your snacks and I bundle you into the car, and off we go to our local mummy and baby music class. We sit in the circle and clap our hands and sing all the songs and you dance under the parachute and pack up all the balls, and you love every moment of it. But, my sweet girl, this is my guilty secret: I do not.

I love that you love it. I love your face as the Grand Old Duke...