I have been thinking about my son quite a bit this week, probably because it was his birthday on Thursday and of course, he is so far away. I thought right back to his young days, what a beautiful baby he was and then on through the various phases of his life up to his decision to emigrate, with his family, to Australia. We keep in close touch and I have been lucky enough to visit them quite frequently during the six years they have been there.
The photo is of him and our cat Susie, taken at around 1976 when he would have been about 8 years old. At that time, Son used to suffer with migraine headaches and I would have to help him to bed, darken his room as much as possible and just let him sleep. He grew out of them after a few years thank goodness. That particular day I had gone to see if he was OK and found that Susie had tucked herself into bed with him. I took the picture to show him later.
A few months ago I suddenly thought about a poem he had learned at school. I could only recall the first line though and wasn't sure who had written it. I remember clearly him telling me that he had learned the poem and he recited it for me, grinning as he got to the end. A very fond memory for me. So, yesterday I "Googled" the rememberd first line - and here it is.
Bedtime by Eleanor Farjeon
Five minutes, five minutes more, please! Let me stay five minutes more! Can't I just finish the castle I'm building on the floor? Can't I just finish the story I'm reading here in my book? Can't I just finish my bead-chain-- it almost is finished, look! Can't I just finish this game, please? When a game's once begun It's a pity never to find out whether you've lost or won. Can't I just stay five minutes? Well, can't I stay just four? Three minutes, then? Two minutes? Can't I stay one minute more?