Wednesday, 22 July 2015

Bedtime Stories.

When I was 15 and this curly haired cutie was 3, our parents split up. Because Mum was working at the time, I babysat a lot and so I used to put him to bed almost every night. I enjoyed those times, because we would squeeze into his bed, hold hands and do the cold bed dance à la Miranda Hart (here, if you have no idea what I'm on about. It starts at 1:10. You're welcome.), and then we would read either a Dr. Seuss book, or one of the two books below.

He's now 8 and I don't have to put him to bed. I just went upstairs and he was reading a book by himself. I'm sad that I won't have to read him a bedtime story anymore now, but I'm thankful that he'll have those memories when he's even bigger than he is now.


No comments:

Post a Comment