Each night I tell Lillian, last thing when putting her to bed, that I don’t want to hear from her again. She nods.
Tonight, about 20 minutes later, I was going past the bedroom and had a look in.
She was awake, and the radio was playing softly. She was looking at it.
“Lillian, did you turn that on?”
She nods. I sit on the side of the bed.
“Did you thought that was me?” she asked.
No, I said, which was the truth since I hadn’t heard it from outside.
“Why did you come in then?”
I didn’t have an answer to that. Just one of those things parents do.