Wednesday, 10 August 2011


It's the first thing he says when he wakes in the morning and the last thing he says before he falls asleep at night. It's what he says when he's excited or bored or fearful; when he's sitting on the living-room floor or standing at the stairgate or running crazily through Carpet Right.

It's what he says many hundred times a day.

And each and every time I hear it, and no matter how many times I've heard it before, my heart involuntarily hiccups, because he's talking to his Mummy, and it astounds me that that's me.

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