Waking up to soft, chubby, dribbly hands, exploring my face with earnest little cooing noises gargling through the slobber. A moment of serendipity, running into the huzz at the local shops and feeling that flutter of excitement — so much that I run towards him in slow motion, with the music swelling until we embrace, grateful (or relieved?) that we still have that feeling. That moment with a new friend when you know you’re completely understood and appreciated and feel like you’ll remain friends for a very long time. Is it like when you hope hope hoped that dumb arse would phone and when would he and do you think he found that comment funny or just silly and oh oh oh … then he phones and you realise that yep, he’s going to phone and you’ll phone him and eventually you realise you’ll be there and he’ll be there. Forever. Even when you wish you could just get in the car and drive away? Well, it’s not really the same is it? But it kind of is. Listening to the cat purr as he curls up next to the computer as I tap tap tap… The kid saying, over and over, ‘what was THAT noise’… and me thinking he picked it up from daycare… but finding out that HE is the one who introduced it to allll the kids at school and that they are alllll saying it alllll day and driving their teachers a bit nuts. That’s my kid. How I am getting to know this new house. One of my favourite things is looking out the front window in the middle of who knows what time, when I’m up with the little ‘un. There is always something going on — cars sliding past, the odd jogger at 4.30am; that time there were police cars out the front; cats lounging audaciously in our driveway, lookin for trouble in the form of our Monty; the sounds of the last and first trains of the day (though sometimes that’s just depressing). And, best of all, the stars twinkling in amongst the hazy reflection of the city lights. It feels like they and I are in it together. Just doing our thing, silently and bravely. The end, ok?