It’s one in the morning when the doorbell pulls me from my sleep. Our backyard is dark. Everywhere upstairs is dark. I wonder if the doorbell was a dream or if someone is even now, breaking into the house–although why they would want to is quite beyond me.
Finally, I gather up my courage, get out of bed and walk to the landing. Downstairs is bright with light. My eldest son is still up–playing a game. It’s too cold to go downstairs so I decide to send him a whatsapp instead.
My son, I write. It’s past time to go to bed. Put away the playstation, back away from the tv, lock the doors and go to bed.
My smartass eldest son apps me back: W8. I need to finish one more thing, then I’m done.
I try to find a comfy spot and go back to sleep, but I can’t.
The bulbs in our rooms need to be changed. We need to think about putting lights in our backyard. Why didn’t I take something practical when I was in college? Something to do with electrics would have been handy right now. Of course, there is always the internet.