Sometimes, it just all comes together. Shortly after 8 year old beat me at chess - proper beating, not me letting him win beating (well, ok, at one point I had to stop him and say No-look-at-the-WHOLE-board-what-could-you-do-with-your-queen-now-instead but it still counts) - went upstairs to check eerie silence, which usually means someone is buried deep inside my jewellry box or is busy 'correcting' my exam scripts in permanent marker...
Eldest son, 12, is lying on his stomach listening to Bach and doing his English homework. Daughter, 5, has carefully pulled her own clothes out of the teetering piles of clean(ish) laundry and is carefully folding them up to use as blankets in the dolly hospital she has built from and old cardboard box, a picnic rug and a beanbag, But my heart really stops when I get to middle son, 8, who has built himself a den out of a duvet and is reading a book with a head torch on eating an apple.
EITHER this is one of those moments when the soundtrack to your mayhem life is Elbow's One Day Like This, OR aliens have come down and kidnapped my real children and left zombie clones in their place....watch this space
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