The baby is singing along with his plinky plonky machine in his cot having just been fed, changed and put back down. The threenager is lying in bed wide awake and asking for croissants.
I wish someone would bring me a croissant.
And a coffee.
I think the baby might be asleep now. The music machine is playing a plinky plonky version of ‘oranges and lemons.’ All quiet so far from the big kid. We could be onto a good thing here. They may now both be asleep, in which case, I should really go to sleep.
I would particularly like one of those really big chocolate croissants, just slightly warmed so that the chocolate is all melty and the pastry is all crisp at the edges.
And I would also like a big strong coffee in a mug made with whole milk and two shots of espresso.
I would like to drink this coffee in a coffee shop all on my own. Maybe sit looking out of the window watching people walking past and pondering the meaning of my life. Actually no, just not thinking about anything at all.
When I’ve finished my coffee I am shown up to my room. My room is at the top of a very tall staircase. The only noise is the sound of the sea from a nearby beautiful sunny beach where I will spend the next day reading a book and drinking cocktails in the sun.
In the centre of my room is a ginormous bed with a totally non clangy mattress, freshly laundered linen sheets and giant soft sinky pillows.
Somewhere in the distance someone is playing a plinky plonky version of ‘oh dear what can the matter be?’
Somewhere close to my head in the dark, the squelching bubbly sound of a baby filling a nappy.
What can the matter be?
Plonkety plinky plonk.’
That was probably just a fart right?
Plonkety plinky plonk’
I don’t have to get up and change his nappy, right?
Another chilling sounds floats out from across the landing. A sound that sends a shiver down my spine. A sound that hoiks me up and out of my perfect descent into most lovely and precious sleep,
Oh fucking hell.