Watching Pob run off with a 3.5 year old son of a friend of my brothers, when we arrived at the Villa in Italy we were all staying in for the week before my brother's wedding. Two little figures, disappearing hand in hand down the path through the garden.
Watching Pob walk up to my friend's nieces when they arrived at her house. Two big girls, around 9 and 10. "Are you my new friends?" she asked. They looked awkward, and my heart broke a little bit. But then the scene moved on, they moved to play with the baby, Pob followed them, then lost interest and went back to her playdoh.
Sitting on the floor of Pob's bedroom, getting Pob and Junior ready for bed. Junior in his sleeping bag already, crawling around trying to keep up with Pob. Pob running madly around, trying to avoid getting her pyjamas on. "I want to be naked, Mummy!" Then running round and round her footstool, holding her cup of millk, chanting "Mummy, Daddy, Mummy, Daddy, Mummy, Daddy."
Pob and my nephew, walking through Verona, hand in hand. Pob in her flower girl dress, my nephew in his new suit, leading the procession of wedding guests through the town to the Pizzeria. Then, a day later, they walked through two airports together, hand in hand, in somewhat less fancy clothes. Until Pob demanded to pull my nephew's suitcase for him. There's a photo of the two of them at baggage collection in Heathrow. My nephew looks at the camera, eight and seriously cool, hair flopping down into his eyes. Pob looks up at him, clearly adoring. Until recently he hasn't been that interested in her, this time he really touched my heart.
Junior burying his head in my chest, looking for the boob but not quite sure any more where it was. Latching on to my arm for a few seconds, just to see if that was what he wanted. Nuzzling and occasionally looking up at me to see if I can help him out. Giving up and going back to his bottle. Sucking at the bottle for a bit, then turning his head into my elbow, then going back to the bottle. Sleeping.