Little feet BIG ADVENTURES
ALMOST EVERY expectant parent makes themselves a secret promise that goes something like this: my life really isn’t going to change that much. With a shudder of distaste and a warm glow of superiority, we watch our friends ferrying their tots round an endless cycle of soft play, park trips and hellish birthday parties. This baby is going to fit in with what we want to do, we think, not the other way around.
A year later we’re sat in a Fun World ball pit surrounded by germy, jam-smeared kids, wondering where it all went wrong.
The reason for this embarrassing about-face is simple: once you have children, your overriding motivation is to make them happy. If they’d rather spend the weekend fighting over piñata sweets at Little Robbie’s birthday party than hanging out at the pub with a bevy of mildly pissed adults (and let’s face
