Grandparents

We all know that Harry can wrap any one of us around his little finger whenever he wants. All he has to do is flash one his cheeky smiles, grab us for a cuddle or say the right thing and we give in.

Today, Harry had me dancing around his playroom to the sound of the Wombles (don't ask) at half past seven this morning. It was not a pretty sight.

But if Melissa and I find it hard to say no to Harry, his grandparents are even worse. It wouldn't be fair to say he gets everything he asks for, but it wouldn't bee too wide of the mark either.

Whenever he stays at Melissa's mum and dad's, for instance, he asks for bacon and egg for breakfast – something he doesn't have at home – and, invariably, he gets it.

It's the same with my mum and dad and I'm absolutely sure Harry knows he can get away with far more when he's there.

Not that this worries me. When I was little, going to nan and grandad's was always a treat and I'll be quite happy if Harry grows up thinking the same thing – just as long as he doesn't expect the same treatment at home.

On this subject, though, I would like to apologise to my dad for landing him with a bit of a headache. A couple of weeks ago I told Harry that I had an old Scalextric set in the loft that I would get down for him (Harry has his own mini set). I couldn't find it, however, and soon realised that it must be at mum and dad's.

Harry, of course, wasn't about to let the matter rest and pestered dad into venturing into his loft. Unfortunately when dad found the set it didn't work and, according to mum, he then spent hours hunched over the cars trying to repair them in time for Harry's next visit. In the end, he managed to get one of the cars working which, given that the set is probably about 25 years old, was some achievement.

Harry, though, was not as impressed. When I asked him if he liked the racing car, he told me: “Yes but only the blue car works daddy. Granddad couldn't mend the other one.”