The girls were in bed, we had settled ourselves on the sofa with a cup of tea and a chocolate (well... me, anyway) when Dave popped upstairs to get something. Within seconds, he was back down...
"Bring the camera!" he whispered, disappearing back out the door.
I jumped the stairs, two at a time, camera in hand and froze at the top. There spread across the landing was our big girl.
Seeing her there, dreaming happily on the landing, reminded me of my own childhood. My sister and I, sometimes crouching at the top of the stairs, cuddling soft toys and wide-eyed, fighting sleep; listening to the comforting sound of our parent's familiar voices; the white noise of a kettle boiling; the quiet drone of the television... enough to send toddler eyes bobbing.
We picked her up and she stirred. Eyes flitting open and a lazy smile. Laying her back in her bed she rolled over and returned to dreamland. And I walked down those stairs putting all those memories of the day's toddler tantrums to rest.
These are the moments I want to remember.
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