I was at work.

My husband texted.

I’m so glad I took a look.

He wrote of the serious debate he was having over breakfast with a very welcome visitor.  They discussed the possible main and sub-plot themes of Paw Patrol’s transition from small to large screen, with the guest demonstrating, apparently, a remarkable and in-depth knowledge of the programme and characters, and the ability to express some concerns over the director’s capacity to maintain the audience’s focus over 40 minutes to ensure that the integrity of the show and storytelling would not be compromised for commercial reasons.

And all this over an eclectic, bohemian breakfast of malt loaf, cheese straws and Fireman Sam (where it seems that after all these years Naughty Norman remains key suspect for most wrongdoings in the hotbed of emergencies that is Ponty Pandy – somewhere, still, in a far, distant galaxy).

How wonderful that my not-yet 2 year old grandson has the amazing imagination of his wonderful grandparent to guide him throughout grandparent-sitting days at our house.  Suddenly, the special Babies and Toddlers’ screening of his very favourite dog-related animation that we’re taking him to in June, and lasting – to be very precise – all of 44 minutes, seems infinitely more appealing.