My sister-out-law, fantabulous mother to two gorgeous but allergy-prone kids, passed on a suggestion for finger food - balls.
That is, meatballs, riceballs and any other foods suitable for a nearly-12-month-old, shaped into balls.
And The Little Madam likes 'em.
Surely a trivial piece of information compared to stuff like the war between Israel and Hezbollah, or the high possibility that our electricity bill for the rest of the winter will top four hundred smackaroos per month.
Yet the success of the balls has been instrumental in transforming me - albeit temporarily - into a picture of optimism and serenity.
* Apologies for any mental images of sweaty testicles which this heading may have induced ;-)