When Caden woke up crying I knew it wasn’t just the cold sore on his lip.
I hadn’t told him we were leaving and yet he knew. He cried when Martin left for work. He cried some more at bedtime. He cried after his brother went to sleep.
No, he didn’t want to sleep in his bed. No he didn’t want to sleep in my bed. No, no, NO!
I got him into my bed and cut my finger on a chipped mirror while fumbling in the dark.
“Did Daddy do that?”
Children don’t forget.
I put on a plaster and got into bed again. I checked my emails, knowing he would be distracted by it. It worked.
I looked at him in the glow of my phone’s backlight, his features highlighted perfectly. He took my breath away.
“You are such a beautiful little boy, Caden.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“OK, you’re a beautiful big boy.”
He shook his head once more and said:
“No, you are.”
And with that, he went to sleep.