1. We were talking last night about Alec's difficult bedtimes and concluded that our late mornings were not helping. I say to justify our 9am lie-ins: "He's so grumpy if I wake him before he's ready and I feel sick if I get up too early." I miss our breakfasts with Nick, though -- and I don't like the way we rarely leave the house before lunch. This morning, Alec wakes while Nick is dressing and asks to go downstairs for his malties.
2. "That's got to be a beautiful thing," says Nick handing me a padded envelope. "Open it." Inside is a USB stick. He explains: "I left it in the back of the old telly, and they've sent it back."
3. At 8pm it appears that we have the evening to ourselves. We put a film on. At 9.30pm Alec comes downstairs in search of a snack (he missed his post-bath cereal because he fell asleep). We feed him and then take him back upstairs. He and Nick read a boring (to me) train book; and I read a boring (to them) essay book. I am surprised at how little resentment I feel about the film. We can watch the end tomorrow.
