Breakfast club
By now - if you've been reading this blog from
the beginning, you'll know that I love our mornings. I just love how the three of us sit by the kitchen table and read our morning papers. Well, two of us read, one of us makes toasts in two languages, plays with his food, throws books on the floor and is juts having good, not-so-clean fun with everything.
And if you've really been reading this blog
long enough, you know the messy person could be me. But I am, of course, referring to Hannes here.
Our daily routine has been for a while that Jessica gives Hannes his early morning bottle - simply because it would be torture if they had to wait for me to wake up. I am, after all, the guy who once slept two hours too long on a train, and had to walk back to the station from wherever they had towed the train. (I just can't hear anything).
So, Jessica gets up, gives him the bottle and then they both fall asleep again. The next time Hannes wakes up, I'll get up and play with him for an hour or so, and then we'll eat breakfast.
Yesterday morning, I didn't wake up, and with a little help from Jessica, Hannes had found his way to our bed. But, once up, he wanted to get on with the program, so he woke me up, and then went and got my glasses from the night table.
Time for dad-son morning time.
