“Hey, mate,” I said to Master11 when he stumbled into the kitchen. “How’d you sleep last night?”
“Okay,” he mumbled, sounding exactly like he needed a coffee and he was feeling every minute of the five years before I let him.
“Any good dreams?” I asked.
He frowned at me. Dumb questions from Dad aren’t rarities, but he knew they were usually leading somewhere.
Rather than answer my question directly, he had one of his own.
“Why?” he wanted to know.
“I was just trying to work out what this was about,” I said, picking up my phone, which just happened to have a vid ready to play.
“What is it?”
Now it was my turn. Rather than answer him directly, I made an announcement.
“Hey, everyone!” I called out. “Get in here! You were all talking in your sleep last night, and I finally managed to record one of you!”
A chorus of “Who?” erupted as they screamed in from the far corners of the house. You could tell they were all hoping it was them.
“I’m not saying,” I said, winking at Master11. “Let’s see if you can tell.”
They could tell.
Do you have a sleep talker in your house? Sleep walker?
We have a house full.
Sometimes I think I’m the sanest person in the house.
Tracey assures me I’m not.
“Raising a family on little more than laughs”
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