Wrestling a baby

Today we attended our first Olympic event - the Graeco-Roman Wrestling. Don't laugh - the blokes in the heavyweight category (whom we were sat right next to) are HUGE and look like they take it very seriously. You really wouldn't want to meet one in a dark alley. The atmosphere was great - a lot of families, a lot of supporters from the various countries - Ukraine, Russia, Azerbaijan all featured heavily as did the Nordic countries - and a lot of people (like us) with no clue at all about the rules or knowledge of any competitors. Which made for a light-hearted, supportive attitude which, if all sporting events were like that, would get me attending more often. We bought the baby a commemorative London 2012 T-shirt for him to wear when he attains his full height. His growth chart says he will be 6ft 3 inches... we bought an XL.

The baby took it very seriously. He started in a jolly mood but once he'd seen some of the contenders he got into the spirit of things. Holding an 11+kg baby who is bored of sitting still and wants to escape is very much like partaking in a wrestling match yourself. We took turns, swapping him between us every 15 min, while the competitors took breaks between bouts and were dried off and fanned by their coaches.

By the end we retreated in abject defeat. Sadly we had no coaches to fan us. The baby, victorious, lay back in his pram with his arms under his head and had a well-earned sleep all the way home.