Bandit No.1

Perhaps it's because I had a girl, or perhaps it's because I'm his granny, or maybe we all feel this way - but sometimes looking at my little grandson makes me want to cry.

I look at that skinny little body, with his mouthful of missing milk teeth, and his floppy fringe in his eyes (because he has decided that he never wants to have his hair cut again), and I worry about that long difficult journey he has to make to be a man. 

I carry him upstairs to bed on my back, and I tell him "you do realise that when you are a grown up man, and have children of your own, I won't be able to do this anymore"?  and he looks kindly at me and says, "I know Granny, but you'll still carry my kids, won't you"?

Yes I will - even if the chances are I'll be about 80 then!

In the meantime, we have them staying tonight, and right now the two of them are snuggled down side by side in the spare room, sharing the double bed for the first time.  Usually there is one in the bed (him) and one on the put-u-up (her). I've challenged them tonight to try sleeping nicely together in the big bed, and there will be prizes in the morning for the best sleepers! 

I'm pretty much sure neither me nor G are going to get those prizes!