'Mummmmy .... Daddddy!'
'Commme On....'
'It's Fri - ayyy'
'Commme On....'
'Commme On Now!'
'Fri - ayyy Fri - ayyy'
This is what we woke up to at 5.30am last Friday morning. If it had not been "Fri-ayyy", I would have said a completely different F word under my breath. I would have rolled over and told my husband to 'ignore him' and prayed to every God I'd ever heard of, "please just this once make him go back to sleep".
But because it was Friday, I laughed.
I laughed and my husband laughed and got up and bought him in for a cuddle. Because who can resist an enthusiastic, life affirming toddler on a Friday morning? Not us that's for sure. The cuddle didn't really work out (does it ever?), the constant wriggling and sticky feet jabs to the ribs soon put pay to that idea and by 6am we we were all watching Peter Rabbit and sipping warmed milk and tea.
'Peter Rabbit, Peter Rabbit...! Something something... Run for your life!' As he bounces up and down at the foot of the bed.
