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.
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