I finally completed the little cardigan I was knitting for the Golden Child, and took it round yesterday evening. (In case you're worried, her big brother got a wee present too.) She is adorable in it, but that's more to do with the Golden Child than with the cardi. As it was nearly seven o'clock she was all ready for bed in her onesie (all in one pyjamas) and, God love her, she wanted me to put her to bed.
She's learning delaying tactics from her brother, making her bedtime milk last as long as possible, and then asking for another story. And another. When the stories stopped, we said 'Goodnight and God bless' rather more times than is absolutely necessary.
But who am I to argue? I'm a night owl, and the worst offender for reading a little longer at bedtime. Just up to the next chapter break. And the next. May as well read to the end of the chapter... the Golden Child and I know that being snuggled up in bed having another story is one of the best feelings in the world.
Besides, it's my livelihood. The House of Stories depends upon readers around the world wanting another story, and another. And there is always another story.
Good night and God bless, as the Golden Child said.
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