Thinking too much

I gazed at Lily in her cot. Her pretty face so peaceful. We were going to formalise her entry into the world by registering her birth. I knew that if she woke, all hell would break loose.

“Lovely Lily, look at you... you must feel so secure, with your Mum, your Dad, your brother (the little one who spontaneously kisses you) and all us grandfolks going gooey over you. I wonder what you’re thinking?”

”Baba, wake me up and I’ll be thinking ‘Where’s my milk, why do my guts hurt and how long’s she gonna leave me sitting in poo?”