Ten Second Snug*

This morning, after feeding W and getting him back to sleep, I thought I’d crawl back into bed for “five more minutes”.

However, according to the laws of the universe, as soon as one child sleeps another wakes up.

Just as I closed my eyes I heard the pitter patter of P’s not-so-little feet creep into my bedroom. His face appeared next to mine a second later.

P (whispers): “…mom? Can I have a snug?”

Never one to turn town a snuggle, I pulled down my duvet and allowed him to wriggle into my cocoon of warmth and comfort. As he burrowed into my arms, he said he just needed a ten second snug before going downstairs. I smiled, sleepily nodded and wrapped my arms around him. He breathed deeply with contentment as he put his head on my chest. Then, oh so quietly, I heard,

P: “One.”

I cocked an ear.

P: “Two.” (Pause) “Three.”

Laughing, I pulled him back.

Me: “P, are you counting?!”

P: “Yes. I only wanted a ten second snug today.”

Me: “I didn’t think that you meant that literally!! Get in here.”

He giggled and burrowed back in. Then, whispering again,

P: “…one. (pause) Two.”

He made it to ten, then exploded out of the bed and ran downstairs.

And that was that.