It has to be said I found the occasion somewhat nostalgic.
I vividly remember as a young tacker being similarly fed by my mother.
She would load up a teaspoon, seemingly whirl around the room with it and deliver it through my gaping gob all the while pretending the tasty morsel was "on a plane from Switzerland".
The Swiss link was down to my uncle who only a few years before had married in that beautiful country and we went to the wedding. It remains one of my earliest childhood memories.
Anyway.
Times have certainly changed.
Poppy's latest foray into the world of solid foods comes courtesy of a special wooden utensil made from some natural sustainable resource, presumably fashioned by Filipino freedom fighters or the like, and guaranteed to compost back into the ground within a week or two of it being discarded.
Such is the life of a 6-month-old child with parents who are, shall we say, that way inclined. Bless them.
The pumpkin she is consuming is also, as one would expect, completely untainted by the modern world.
Just good old fashioned natural goodness. Organic they call it today.
No sprays. No fertilisers. No exploitation of labour in its production. And no taste judging by the look on Poppy's face as she tries the first bit.
I wondered whether she might enjoy a Big Mac instead, though I kept the thought to myself.
I jest here of course.
I am in awe of the younger generation and their attempts to save the planet, starting at their front gate. I'm somewhat embarrassed to say it is not, or was not, something I'd really thought about until the arrival of my three gorgeous granddaughters and what the world might look like for them after I've gone to the big golf course in the sky.
Don't get me wrong, I've not come over all green and good all of a sudden, but it would be fair to say I do think about such things these days and do my bit where I can.
For instance, last week I made sure any methane emissions at our house were kept to a minimum. I figure even a little bit will help.
On retirement I plan to build one of those long tunnel houses and grow our own food in part of it. Naturally, I will set aside one end for a homemade distilling plant and make gin. I mean there's no point being green and thirsty is there.
But I digress.
Back at the dinner table Poppy is having second thoughts.
Maybe that pumpkin wasn't too bad after all. Is there anymore?
Naturally there is and Grandad, ever cognisant of the signs, closes in with another spoonful.
Big mistake.
For starters I forgot I was only supposed to give her one small spoonful of pulped pumpkin.
I needn't have worried about my forgetfulness because the moment the gloop hit the back of her throat she spat it back at me.
Now this wasn't a full-on projectile vomit type thing, she's way too small for that, but the pumpkin came back with sufficient force the end of my nose caught a big dollop. And stupidly, as I looked down my glasses, it fell off and landed on the front of my shirt.
Son-in-law, and he may be in danger of losing the title after his performance, nearly wet himself laughing but offered to take over while I went to get cleaned up.
I was philosophical as I changed my shirt. It was one of those things, I told myself. Just be thankful I had the opportunity to be a part of such an important occasion in the wee cherub's development.
I returned to the lounge to find the news had spread to the now-returned Mrs P and the Boomerang Child who were both trying to stifle giggles.
To show I was totally unaffected by the incident, I thought I should dive right back into Grandad duties and volunteer to help change Poppy's nappy. I figured it would be full. It was. I mean, she's a baby, they always are.
With Mrs P hovering, I cleaned up the mess and did what all Grandad's do. I picked her up, pushed her into the air before blowing a raspberry on her bare tummy. That's when she peed on me.
Poppy that is, not Mrs P.
Even Poppy joined in with the laughter that time.
I figured there wasn't much I could do about the embarrassment I had suffered but go and change my shirt. Again.
And as I did I made a mental note to remember it all for Grandad's speech at her 21st birthday party.
