His open arms do implore, and with wide eyes fixed on me he totters across the floor, as if to say: Pick me up, GP! Such a sweet joy that he wants to cling contentedly and so still. His nappied bottom, a perfect handful, invites a pat so grandparental. Finally, he wriggles, his job done, he totters back to his mum, and gives her a look, as if to say: I made GP feel good today.