. . . and hearing is one of them, having a lie-in another. I left the Bear to the annual Alan Keef steam-up (see blog post from last year) and visited my folks this weekend.

Mum and Dad let me sleep in on Sunday morning – I must admit getting rather grouchy with poor old Dad when he shook me awake at 7.45 on Saturday morning.* He told me a coffee was waiting for me – in other words, wake up and smell the coffee, and you won’t get another one if you leave it to get cold. (The Bear often informs me that penguins are collecting on icebergs ready to jump in my coffee: it’s always the Antarctic, never the Arctic, maybe polar bears encroach on his territory or something.) I finally managed to come round about 8ish and pottered downstairs to find the saucer had been carefully placed over my coffee to keep it hot. That’s love.

Yesterday morning I tottered across the landing to the bathroom at the much more civilised Sunday hour of 9.15 and heard Dad calling me. Thinking I might have pre-empted one of them making their way up to the bathroom after breakfast, I called back, “‘arf a mo, Dad.” But it wasn’t competition for the bathroom. Instead a cheery shout spiralled up the stairs all the way from the kitchen: “Would you like a coffee, love?” “Ooh yes please, Dad.”

Life’s simple pleasures. Coffee, lie-ins, and being with those you love.

*I usually forget to pack my Shakeawake but either of my parents is usually prepared to undertake the exact same function. Groan.

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