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This time of year is amazing isn't it? It feels like the winter will never end, that you’ll never again wake up in anything but darkness and suddenly, out of nowhere you get these incredible sunny days that remind you that you are not a mole.

This weekend we went down to Essex and while Keith was busy breaking down in the sea and swearing at his own forgetfulness, Alfie and I had some fun.

He climbed into bed with me on Saturday morning which was the single cutest thing I think he has ever done. He snuggled up on my shoulder and cuddled my arm which meant for nearly an hour I could only lie there and bask in the cutes while his hot breath made my arm go all clammy.

Such a precious moment.

Then he decided to wake up refreshed and ran laps of the pillows.

Note to self: I must cut my hair.

We spent a lot of Saturday chilling with our friend Lindsay around the Prom in Maldon. There are some of the most amazing facilities there – people of Maldon I hope you appreciate how spoiled you are. Alfie was especially impressed with the spade someone had left behind because as covered in a previous post, he is a fan of the digging.

And dig he did.

After lunch we went for a wander and found some Morris Dancers outside of a local pub. I was this close to calling Pimms o’Clock and settling in for the duration.

As a counterpoint to all this twee loveliness, I will just highlight a small flaw in the “aren’t the days lovely and light” aspect of spring.

Anyone who claims that lighter evenings are a good thing clearly doesn’t have small children. Even more clearly, they don’t have to deal with staying at friends houses who have a lovely south facing room which is still light enough to conduct keyhole surgery by at 8pm and a small boy whose sole reaction is “BONUS PLAYTIME. BRING IT!!”.

It took me hours to get Alfie to drop off. After a while spent lying alongside him putting him back in bed every time he wandered off (an option met with much screaming and pouting), and a while head stroking and singing (fine until the dog started shouting at a cat until I screamed at him in language that would make a fishwife blush) I gave up and left him to bounce on the bed. There were a few large thumps before it eventually went quite an hour later. I went up to check on him and was pretty smug to see him passed out width ways on Keith’s side of the bed. Unlucky Batsford.

Sunday I got payback by packing Keith and Alfie off so I could have a lie in.

And then we went round to see the father in law, and the very nice car is currently housing for Keith. I threw some lunch together and afterwards I did something that will have burning torches and pitchforks at my door, I stripped my son of his top and shoes and let him run around the garden semi naked .... IN THE SUN!!! 

I lay on the grass and watched him wiggle his toes in the grass, pout as stepped on his first piece of gravel and then with one of his trademark mischievous grins come running over to me and jump on me for a kiss.

It’s the first time in years that I wasn't in a hurry for Keith to finish working on a car.

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