I was woken in the early hours of this morning by Harry and Bear, his thread-bare and much loved companion.
“I can't sleep, Daddy,” he told me. He'd had a bad dream and still felt warm. He'd had a slight temperature at bedtime last night, and I'd given him some Calpol. I straightened my duvet and moved over, and he climbed into the double bed beside me. We turned the lights on, dimmed as low as they go, and snuggled down again.
He's pretty much the same this morning, warm brow-ed and lacking in his usual energy. He does seem happy sitting wrapped up with some juice watching Cbeebies, but he's definitely not himself as Emily can't interest him in helping her with a treasure hunt. She needs it though, as she's using a map Harry drew ages ago of a different house, so she's unlikely to find any treasure.
I'll have to see how he is later; he's meant to be going to a party dressed as a Red Indian, and Emily and I need to buy some food. I don't think any of us are going to make it though, so maybe I'll buzz a neighbour to watch them for half an hour while I restock.