My little pumpkin

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 I want to write this post because I always feel like my posts are so negative and depressing sounding. Just a quick one, because I do not want to forget it. 


The other night, after we had done all the bedtime routine things, the lights were off, Pickle was in her bed, and I had just settled into my bed (ie: my mattress on the floor next to her bed) and was taking some deep breaths and preparing to finally relax for the first time that day, I heard a whimpery, whispery voice coming from her bed, almost tearful in its fearful panic. "MUMMY!" said she "I have forgotten what a turnip looks like!" 

Well.

Being the intuitive and empathetic mummy that I am, I realised the catastrophic consequences this could cause later in life, and as such, hastened to rectify the dilemma. I showed her a picture of a turnip on my phone, and she instantly relaxed, snuggled with extreme satisfaction into her duvet, and went to sleep. 

The next morning, the first words when she awoke were "why did Santa Claus turn?" I don't know, my scrumptious little pumpkin. Why did he turn? "Because he was a TURN - ip!" And then I heard a lot about how she had a dream about fairies, woke up, then had another dream about fairies, woke up again, and then went back to sleep and had ANOTHER dream about fairies. 

What a night, eh? What a night!

Thanks for reading x

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