Atilla is experienced in the art of being fed.
I offer a bread course - toast with marmite, or variously baked yoghurt toasties - which he accepts unhesitatingly to munch away. Until he sees me preparing his mains. Then the bread (or bread substitute) is tossed aside contemptuously and the yodeling begins the demand for his proper meal.
Happily at this stage Atilla does not pay significant attention apart from to his next spoonful, I can prepare his fruit course in relatively aural-free mood.
This trend of habit was noted only recently, and I'm playing catch-up with his development.
P.s. I have tried offering commercial jars of baby food. He doesn't like 'em. So for now we're staying with home- made food.
Highway Twenty-Nine: Ageing Boomers, Laurie & Les, Talk Politics.
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*“It’s in the air, mate. Anger, cruelty, bitter rage. We’re taking it in
with every breath, like some colourless, odourless, poisonous gas. But
where’s i...
1 week ago
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