It is 2.43am.
My son has been up for 20 minutes. As I try to type he is demanding my attention over at the snail tank....every so often the snails are rewarded with a break as he 'assists' the poor hamster to spin his wheel.
This nightime escapade follows, at a rough, weary guestimate, an hour of lying on my sons floor punctuated by singing, cuddling and a bokkie milk. The beast then awoke fully demanding 'pasta and meat'.
Seldom do I give in and come downstairs but I really needed a brew. Saying that, he rarely wakens at this hour so I can forgive a rare nocturnal episode. It just means that he will sleep at nursery tomorrow and piss my £40 fee up the wall slightly. And I will have to work very tired....but that I am used to along with the rest of the working parents out there.
Anything but crying...or screaming...or biting. Hamster baiting is actually encouraged.
Look how tired he is: