There have been times, mostly when crazypixie was just born, that himself has dropped everything to come home and help me cope with our crying baby.
There have been days when I’ve rung him at 9 in the morning sobbing down the phone, ‘When are you coming home?’ Then we’ve chatted and all was well in the world again
There have been mornings, following rough nights, when he’s quietly taken crazypixie downstairs, fed her and amused her while I’ve snored away upstairs with tinyelf.
Today it was my turn to rescue him.
Tinyelf and I were in bed as she was having her morning feed. My phone rang. Bizarrely it was himself, who was presumably just downstairs. I answered, hopeful that it was an offer of a cup of tea. But no.
A sheepish voice asked me to come down stairs and let him in.
Confused, I threw on a big t-shirt, and bounded down the stairs only to be greeted by crazypixie.
‘Where’s dada?’ I asked.
‘Outside,’ she grinned and pointed. There he was peering in the glass looking all lost puppyish.
I opened the door and we both just collapsed laughing. Apparently he had just popped out to get something from the car, he’d put the top lock on the latch and pulled the door after him. Then when he tried to get back in all he could hear was the key turning in the lock.