Born to Polonius and his wife (I’ll call her Moira because I’m tired of all the mothers not having names) his daughter is tiny, red and screaming like many daughters. She is the second child, (probably) and her parents one exhausted and proud to see her tiny scrunched up face. They fall in love with her instantly. Polonius goes around handing out cigars, beaming with delight at this new development in their lives – a daughter, a daughter. His son is toddling around, delighted to see someone smaller than himself and Proud Papa Polonius can not stop beaming. Even when the little girl screams and screams, he smiles and makes funny faces at her. He is an expert coo-er. He sings all the old songs from his university when he runs out of lullabies. He is an expert at peek-a-boo.