fleeting

That Boy and I have a little holiday ritual, involving books and coffee and duvets and civilised mother and son conversation. He refers to it as Read In Bed O’clock. He appeared as usual this morning, and we sat, turning pages in mutually contented silence for a while, before I wandered off to find coffee. When I came back to bed, I found this sleepy sight, and I wondered- how long before he decides he’s too old for this?

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Filed under books, insanity of the offspring

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