Someone once said to me that their favourite times of day were nursery drop off and then nursery pick up.  I totally get it.

Bedtimes in our house are quite drawn out affairs that involve bath-time (when they stink), books, a Fairy Gary story (don’t ask) and a song.  I only have myself to blame  for the ridiculousness. But now it’s tradition and there are protests if the Fairy Gary is too short or if I don’t sing.  I am working on reducing this to just shutting the door on the screams.

So I bloody love it when they eventually both drop off. And my shoulders drop down about 3 inches.

You can hear a pin drop. And it’s golden …

And breathe.

And gin.