(Diary entry 20th June) Out and about with the baby in the sling for the very first time. Popped into the local garage to buy a bottle of water. With Isobella sleeping peacefully in the sling, I approached the counter only to be met with a sneer from the guy at the till. Nodding in the vague direction of the slumbering parcel on my chest, he snarled: “Where’s its mother?”
Carrying a baby in a sling is no job for a man, it would seem, in the opinion of Petrol Station Guy.
I would have asked him when selling fags and Milky Ways had suddenly become the apex of masculinity, only he had that look about him that suggested he was comfortable with violence. Plus, with the baby slowing me down I’d have never outrun him.
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