Summary
WHAT do you do with a 22-month-old daughter when the afternoon is spread out before you? The choice is important because those few hours can turn into an interminable round of crying, stomping and refusal to move a millimetre if the wrong choice is made.
I could have tried a children-friendly farm, a park with swings and slides or even a walk along the canal - all tried and tested pursuits virtually guaranteed to induce big smiles. But on a whim I chose the National Gallery of Scotland. Not the obvious place, I know; the chances of plastic toys painted in bright primary colours were always going to be thin on the ground.See the full content of this document
Extract
Daddy Cool
Entering the hallowed building I did wonder if this was really a good idea. But my pride and...
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