Chompy

I've been increasingly over-excited at the thought of giving F her first taste of solid food. She turned four months old yesterday, which is the minimum age the internet seems to say is allowed. V was sensibly sticking to this, despite me spending every breakfast for the last three weeks saying helpful things like "oh go on, give her a ham sandwich and a coffee, what harm can it do?"

I got V to cave in one day early, in the end. No mean feat, convincing my wife to ignore conventional health advice. I should start working for the tobacco lobby.

So on Monday, F got her first taste of banana. A tiny slice, mashed fine and offered up in a blue plastic spoon. It went down pretty well, too, after a slightly resistant start. Usually the spoon brings the only other taste she knows, that of vitamin D drops, popular as any medicine. Okay, she does know various other flavours, I suppose. But Plastic Caterpillar and Furry Elephant Blanket don't really count, any more than Daddy's Arm does.

Banana was approved. She did start crying, but only when we took the spoon out to refill it. This bodes well, I think. The signs that she's interested in food are there to see. She likes the cornflake packet, because it's red and rustles. Her favourite line of 'This little piggy went to market' isn't the tickling finale, it's the one about roast beef. Well, specifically the bit where the one of the little piggies gets none. That always gets a chuckle. Quite the Tory, my daughter.

We'd already bought a couple of pots of baby goo from the supermarket in advance of first feeding, a carrot one and a mango one (colours interchangeable). Mango got sceptical eyebrows from Mormor and Aunty M, who said sweet foods like that weren't a good choice to start with. V was delighted - apparently there was a fruit puree one that used to be her favourite. She used to snack off it when she was feeding her younger brothers. So she thought waste not want not, and tucked into the mango paste with a spoon.

Not good stuff. I tried it as well. It tastes more of the rice starch padding it out than actual mango, I reckon. Hopefully F will take after my rather more eclectic feeding habits than V's (who won't eat meatloaf but will eat meatballs made from the same mince mix, because it, er, there's, er, I don't know). I'm optimistic, as she can happily spend an hour gnawing the face of a stuffed rabbit at the moment. If that mango stuff is anything to go by, I can see why.