"I love slubble". Geronimo is stirring me about his slobber on the table at the cafe. Large tonsils...constant slobber, lots of tissues. But I could gobble him up right now. He gallops and tippy-toes his way through discarded toys and up and down supermarket aisles. He identifies rectangles and laughs at himself. He has a friend called Henry we're yet to meet. He jumps, fearlessly, off everything. He slubbles.
