Gertie loves Wimbledon, for two reasons as far as I can see.
I try to watch as much tennis as possible during the tournament (on television, of course - haven't made it to the championships since children arrived on the scene) and so for Gertie it means time spent with Mummy cheering on Andy Murray. There's a sort of osmosis happening here, because she likes the things that Mummy likes. (I know that will not last, so I'm just enjoying it while it does.) More importantly, though, for Gertie, it sometimes means late nights, staying up past bedtime, and it often means strawberries and ice-cream in front of the televison. Two treats that happen rarely at other times of the year.
Gertie enjoyed seeing Serena Williams win this afternoon, (though her delight was in how many people she cuddled at the end and the size of the plate, more than in the performance itself) and was fascinated to hear that this was Serena's fifth Wimbledon title.
Whilst her enthusiasm doesn't quite match that of her mother's, Gertie's very much looking forward to tomorrow and seems excited that Murray is in the final.
"So how many times has Andy Murray won it before?" she asked, conversationally, as Serena did her post-match interview.
"Oh. So he's not very good, then?"
I started explaining how difficult it was to win Wimbledon and then gave up, bowing down to the logic and clarity of the five-year-old mind. Just hoping that tomorrow changes that mind, though.
And, speaking of changed minds: after my last post about the excitement of Eddie putting on weight, it seems that the health visitor made a mistake with the scales and he hasn't jumped up onto the chart at all. I'm sure there's a full blog post hidden in there somewhere, but at the moment I'm too angry to think about it.