If one was to presume that Lily was going to be a one day wonder, then one had best think again.
I know I've mentioned it before, but one of the nicest things my Father ever said to me happened when we were standing outside the hospital nursery"shop window" peering in through the reflections at one of the little lumps of wrapping a few metres away. That was how one viewed one's new born progeny thirty years ago next Monday week, if one was male.
We were accompanied by the then Miss Two, and now the mother of Lily.
Lily's Mum had just done or said something terribly two-like and wondrous, and I mentioned to my Father how wonderful it was, watching as every day at the changes happened in her life and the joy those brought to us. I asked him when did that stop.
He looked at me with the merest hint of a glisten in his eyes, a bit like I suppose mine appear when I look at this photo, and said: " It hasn't yet."
He was right.
And when the son-in-law wakes at 4:30, and thinks to himself that it's probably too early to visit them in hospital just yet, one can be sure it isn't going to stop for a long long time.