Okay, it's not a grandchild.
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It's a puppy.
The puppy our kids in Melbourne bought in March almost fills his puppy bed and last week had his first nail trim.
Anyone with adult, child-free children knows how much they can dote on a puppy and Winnie arrived in my daughter's life at about the same time Australia went into COVID lockdown.
At six months, the alleged poodle-cocker spaniel cross looks like Owen Wilson's character from the movie Zoolander (Google it).
I am impressed that my daughter was able to wait until age 34 to get a small creature of her own. She who slept with our dearly departed Choo (Siamese) for 16 years and she who talks with animals like our family's resident Dr Dolittle.
Any time she arrives home in Launceston our aged dogs greet her like Christmas - tails wagging, she whispers "I know. I know,'' into the soft and warm furry place between their ears and neck.
Like many, she was bereft at the imposition of another six-week lockdown in Melbourne.
I was my usual compassionate self.
Could be worse, I said.
"Health authorities in China have issued a health alert, forbidding people from eating large rodents.''
(Apparently bubonic plague erupts from time to time in places like Mongolia where lamb is never on the menu. That's okay. Australia's last reported case of bubonic plague was in 1925. WTF? That's almost recent memory for some of us.)
My cat girl and I chatted on about lockdown and the associated anti-social benefits of staying in.
She and her partner only "went out'' once, caught a cold and had to be COVID tested (negative).
My daughter and I share dispositions - given a choice between a big night on the tiles and a small night on the couch, we'll take the couch option.
They invested in a 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle that I understand included far too much sky and water. They did the land bit in the middle, decided it was too boring and reverted to a less active pastime - reading and Netflix.
"We've finally finished all of the West Wing,'' she said, wistfully.
"You should watch it again.''
Next, we chatted Australia's life politik.
Like many of us, she said she felt sorry for 'Dan' Andrews when he announced Melbourne's new lockdown measures on Tuesday, when another 192 cases were diagnosed.
"He didn't sign up for this - the bushfires and now COVID - he looked dejected,'' she said.
... she said she felt sorry for 'Dan' Andrews ...
We moved on to our favourite economic girly-boy, Matthias Cormann.
The COVID corpse that will be the Australian economy isn't even cold in its grave and Matthias has almost sealed for himself a better offer.
Well - with all this talk of plague, nothing says self-interest more than leaving the sinking ship of our nation's economy with arguably the most challenging set of numbers for a century. It's not a good look. Or is it?
The West Australian senator leaves politics at the end of the year. After 13 years in office he feels he's done all he wanted to do.
"I can honestly say I have left nothing on the field," he said, adding he has "another six months or so of hard work to be done in this job."
I hear he plans a return to native Belgium for a role inside the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development - the OECD - the chocolate train.
He's given Team Canberra 13 years of his and his family's life and now will vanish, like his cigar-smoking buddy, Joe Hockey.
I sort of get it - none of us is a bottomless pit of altruism - no matter where we sit politically.
Frankly, some of our longer-serving pollies are no better than seat-warmers supping from the top table, fed by you and me.