The sun had come out and we were walking to the park, catching up the children while chatting.
Aware that my friend's child had joined the queue for ice cream, I was instantly amused and taken back to the time that Esme had done the same at just three, but had been turned away by an on-the-ball vendor.
When a moment later I spotted Fia at the front of the queue being handed an ice lolly, wholly animated and turning to smile at the crowd, I had to look again. The woman behind her was saying to the ice cream man, "Oh no, she's not with me," at which point he poked his head out and shouted "Oi!"
I didn't have my purse with me - and I concluded this was both good and bad in equal measure. As I handed back the lolly still encased in its wrapper, Fia balled in disbelief. She continued to ball for some time, burying her head in my shoulder, sat on my lap on a park bench. She must have sensed I was trying not to laugh, because five minutes later, she yelled merry hell at me, screaming that it was not funny. That at least seemed to cheer her up.