Our Daughter Went To South America And All We Got Was This . . .
. . . dried llama foetus from a witches’ market in Bolivia. To be buried under the threshold of one’s new house for good fortune, apparently. As it happens we are considering moving, so perhaps a highly apposite present. More importantly, it proves that we must have got something right in her upbringing – no misjudged woolly hats sustainably hand-knitted in the Andes for us. Fair warms a father’s heart, it does.