“I think I remember,” A weary mum said.
“A vague recollection of staying in bed?”
“I may on occasions have slept past eleven? And no one yelled WEE WEE at twenty to seven!”
“When Sundays meant bacon and fresh hot coffee? (Not half eaten toast crusts and almost warm tea)”.
“At least there is hope?” She says, thinking it through.
“Perhaps I might sleep in a decade or two…”