This morning began with a young blonde jumping on top of me and giggling. Before you raise an eyebrow, she’s five years old and smells of strawberry shampoo and toothpaste.
She was soon joined by a brunette, and a large ginger cat.
It’s the weekend.
I cherish the first moments of Saturday mornings - invariably spent squashed below a pile of children and cats, rubbing sleep from our eyes, and talking about what we might do in the day ahead.
So far (heading towards 9:30am) we have seen a battle with pirates, screening of a Laurel and Hardy movie, and eating of colossal quantities of breakfast cereal. The rest of the morning looks to be headed towards the playpark, armed with skateboards and rollerskates.