After a traumatic day which kicked off with a surgeon lasering his tonsils and part of his adenoids away, Marty, our little son, seems to be recovering well, I'm very relieved to be able to report.
It was easy to see that he was upset and he became even more mother dependent than usual – which is not great surprise when you understand that his throat was burning and his poor little nose must have been feeling pretty sore too. Still, the ice cream did seem to work.

Stop reading, start speaking
Stop translating in your head and start speaking Italian for real with the only audio course that prompt you to speak.
The poor little mite was not allowed to eat anything after midnight last night and could not even have a drink of water until four whole hours after the operation, which must have added to his feeling pretty damn down. His mother is bearing up to the experience well too and managed to give the impression that she was calm cool and collected all day, with her true feelings only being in the form of a minor panic over documentation.
My other half's mother who came down to give some much needed moral support and I stayed with both patient and patient's doting mother until the hospital staff indicated that we had outstayed visiting time by a fair few hours -which was true.
I did try to supply mother and mother's mother with pizzas, but could only find one pizzeria open in the vicinity of the hospital, but for some not exactly clear reason (some odd by-law?!), this place, although open at six, was unable to supply take-away pizzas until seven. I did not hang around waiting, but went on a hunt for another place, but was only able to find one other pizza producer open, which I did not like the look of. It was not a true pizzeria (pizza snob that I am). Long and short, no pizzas for anyone. If this sounds odd, the fact that you are not swimming for pizza choice in the very land that invented these wonderful things, you should know that Milan is still very much in holiday mode, which means that finding a good pizza place can be a real, if not impossible, chore.
Finally, many thanks for the kind comments re my sons op left by some of the good people who read my rantings.