Dear Marc, when we decided to relocate to London, I was mostly worried about my daughter's ability to adjust to the country, language and customs. Never did I worry about my wee son, who does not seem to be able to tell the difference between food and sand. He's in that cute, ignorant stage.
But it seems I should perhaps have taken better care of him. The other day, I returned from the swings to find him like this:
Like so many Swedes abroad, he has turned into a tragic case of
caffe latte bumness.
What can a mother do?
He's not even 2 years old.