I keep dreaming about my children. It’s always the same dream: I’m hugging them one by one. It’s lovely. My eyes are leaking as I write this. Must be allergies.
They are incredibly well-behaved in my dream.
Unlike a quick Skype session which start off peacefully enough but descends into squabbling as they nudge and jostle for the prime spot right on front of the screen. In the end all I can hear is their shouts and all I can see is a close-up of Lola’s chin as being the oldest can push closest to the camera.
One night the dream was ruined when Christopher Walken appeared with his extended family.