Squeezing in all sorts.

Easter and souvenirs and parcels are coming. It's quite the smorgasbord.  

Well bugger me, if all of a sudden my darling boy seems to have gone from boy to big fella, overnight, in an instant.

Of course this is not true, but it sure as shit seems like it to me. Friends in the UK this week are wondering where the last year - their little fella's first year, has gone and I am wondering where the last dozen years have gone. Time really does just slip by.

The kids are popping down tonight for an Easter catch up and a holiday review, but mostly it's for Pa's big birthday. We are all gonna head out and eat lashings of seafood and have a jolly old time at the same place that made the news last week cos some dick did a runner without paying for his expensive supper.

But I digress. In preparation for the kids coming, I set to making up their bedrooms, which was more of a job than it should have been, cos the lovely lady who looked after Dog while we were away likes to iron all of my sheets, but is never too concerned about where she stacks 'em afterward, so I had to unfold every fucking one to see what size it was and once I started I figured I might as well get 'em all sorted. Yeh they don't look nearly as well sorted as before, but at least I can find the different sizes easily enough now.

The kids negotiate which room they want when they get here, even though the blue one was always meant to be for Zig and the purple one for my girl, so the smaller double bed is in the blue room.

And as I was making the beds I was thinking that he really should be in the blue room cos the bed is smaller. I had a happy few moments thinking of him tucked up, curled up with so much space to spare. I remember reading him is bedtime stories and listening to his little boy secrets and playing eye spy - or is it I spy? I don't know. But I do know we both fitted neatly into the bed and he'd sometimes just drift off to sleep while I was reading, ah...and then I remembered.

He is now the tallest in our family!!

Yep! I am the widest but he is the tallest. I guess that means he and I are due the biggest beds?

And then I wondered how people in days gone by ever managed. Whole families tucked up in a tiny bed a la 'The Waltons' or 'Little House on the Prairie' and I can only imagine that none of 'em snored. Can you just imagine a snorer in one of those log cabins? I reckon the family would all line up to whack the offender on the noggin with a skillet. And what did they do for privacy and when did adolescents have time to wonder about body and mind changes? I mean it wasn't always wonderful sharing a room with my sister, but there was no other expectation then. The 5 of us all shared a bathroom and a toilet and I imagine it was sometimes a pain in the bum, but I don't really remember it being much of an issue.

Perhaps snoring is a first world, 21st century condition. Perhaps all that sniffling and snorting has evolved to fill the extra space in the bed.