We had to shift some furniture about in preparation for building work which is due to wreak havoc at our house from next week, and this little beauty fell on the floor.
It was a passport photo we had taken of our daughter at a photographic studio down the road from where we lived, when she was about six months old. We were getting her passport sorted for a holiday in Spain. (I wrote a blog entry last year about our plane journey back - Flight).
I think the photo cost a tenner. Money well spent, I would say. That little bottom tooth has got to be worth that on its own, surely.
I know, and I remember, looking at this photo, that we were stuck in a hinterland of worry and shock following her diagnosis of Prader-Willi Syndrome just a few short months before.
But I also remember that - as her happy nature began to shine through - the foundations of our fierce love and pride were being laid.
I would now like to point out that I would like my builders to use cement, not love and pride, however fierce.
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