(Diary 9th June 2007) Out to work. Being a freelancer, there’s no such thing as paternity leave for me. Console myself that it is only for a couple hours, bite the bullet and get on with it. Pass the Disney shop on my way. Against my better instinct, I go inside. Once in, the slushy side of my disposition floods my common sense, and I buy a cuddly Mickey Mouse for Isobella. Odd, this, as I never found MM particularly funny, being more of a Daffy Duck man, myself. The awesome power of The Disney Brand at work.
When I get home, I present it to Isobella and find myself swelling with pride when she ignores it. That, I tell myself, is her innate distrust and contempt for such a symbol of the corporate world of greed and exploitation. Daddy has been a sucker and his daughter has taught him a valuable lesson.
Nothing to do, of course, with that fact that she is only two days old and cares for nothing but milk and having her nappy emptied.
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