Later on Sunday morning. I was lying on the couch holding the boys while Samuel was playing with his truck on the floor. Julia was upstairs taking a quick nap.
Suddenly Samuel stands up and points to the ceiling and yells "Mummy, mummy". There was no noise from upstairs to inspire this comment.
I am the one that got him up, dressed him, went to the boulangerie to buy his croissant, fed him his croissant, gave him his milk and changed his diaper. And all he wants to do is play with the cat and his mummy. Yes, I feel loved.
Discalimer-The above is sarcasm.
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