Last night I was tucking Carl into bed at the end of another long day. His light was out, the room dimly lit by the illuminated globe on the bookshelf which casts a bluish glow over the room. We were lying on the bed, heads on pillow having our usual goodnight chat; who did you play with at school, what's Sinter Klaas going to give you this year, why he's not allowed to drink three glasses of water before bed, etc.
Sliding my face closer to his, I laid my hand like a roof over the space between our heads and whispered "look, when I flutter my fingers like this it looks just like lightening." He lay completely still, spell-bound by the flicking blueish light as I quickly raised then lowered my hand. Then he wanted a turn.
"Look Mum, I can make the lightening too" he whispered, gently lifting and lowering his hand.
"And...HERE COME THE THUNDER!" he cried and SLAPPED the side of my head!!!
Sliding my face closer to his, I laid my hand like a roof over the space between our heads and whispered "look, when I flutter my fingers like this it looks just like lightening." He lay completely still, spell-bound by the flicking blueish light as I quickly raised then lowered my hand. Then he wanted a turn.
"Look Mum, I can make the lightening too" he whispered, gently lifting and lowering his hand.
"And...HERE COME THE THUNDER!" he cried and SLAPPED the side of my head!!!
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