six knitters and one baby fitted in very nicely. The baby was definitely a bonus. She is a mere eight weeks old. We all fell instantly and deeply under her spell.
Eight week old babies should scream or sleep mid-afternoon, especially in the relative quiet of a library based knitting group. She did neither. When not involved in the normal baby activity of being fed she observed us and received compliments with a slightly smug, "Yes, well of course I know I am perfect." We all had a cuddle. She snuggled in.
Holding her was strange. I do not often hold babies. It scares me a bit. I definitely need to be sitting down securely to feel comfortable about any such responsibility for a human in miniature. It is a huge responsibility, however momentary.
She wriggled a little and, remarkably for her age, held her head up and looked at me. I wonder what she saw. She is still learning to focus but she seemed to be observing me intently. We had a little conversation. I am no good at baby talk. Babies get full sentences from me. They seem to like it. Her mother finished the row she was working on and I passed her back with regret and relief - or should that be relief and regret?
We all wondered at the way that, all being well, babies arrive equipped with so many essentials and all those little details like those minute fingernails and eyelashes. We wondered at the way she was still alert and awake and good tempered after two hours. We told her she was too young to learn to knit but we will teach her if she wants to learn. Her big brother is learning to cook and likes to play with sticks and string as well as his favourite yellow bulldozer and a collection of cars.
Much later Her Royal Highness was enjoying more social chat with another older New Admirer. New Admirer's husband arrived. His face lit up. "Two or three week loan?" he asked eagerly and reached out.