The rain is gently falling on our thatched roof. The wind is rustling in the trees. The tumble drier is letting out a comforting whir with the odd click as a button hits the sides. And that's it. There is no other noise - besides me tapping on the keyboard. This is my idea of bliss.
Yes I am officially working. But oh, the sweet joy of simply being alone. The peace, calm, quietness of it all.
In less than three hours all of this loveliness will be replaced with:
'I'm hungry. I need a snack.'
'I want chocolate.'
'I want two chocolates.'
'His chocolate is bigger than my chocolate.'
'I need to pee.'
'That's mine. I had it first.'
'He hit me.'
'Well he hit me first.'
'I want TV.'
'I don't want TV. I want to play dinosaurs.'
'Let's build a cave.'
'But we have to have all the cushions on the floor.'
'No I don't want to pee.'
'But we need get ALL the toys out.'
'No my pants aren't wet.'
'When can we go to Disneyland?'
'Why can't we have a dog?'
'I don't like that supper.'
'I want pudding.'
'I don't want to pick up the toys.'
'I didn't make the mess.'
'But it's not bedtime.'
'He's not giving me enough room in the bath.'
'Wash him first.'
'I don't want to clean my teeth.'
'Not those pyjamas. The ones with a pocket on.'
'That's a stupid story. I didn't want that story.'
'Why does he always get to choose?'
'I don't need to pee again.'
'I need another cuddle.'
'And a song...'
'And another cuddle.'
And then peace and quiet will be restored again. Only 7 more hours to go then.