Do you remember when you were young and your best friends were just the best people EVER? Then boys came along and they were the best people EVER? Then best friends and boys didn't mix and when you were with your boyfriend, your best friend tagged along? Or do you remember tagging along and feeling awkward and left out, especially when they started snogging right in front of you? Yep, you were the Gooseberry.
We have a Gooseberry. He comes up to our knees, has big brown eyes, brown hair, smooth apple round cheeks, cheeky grin and generally answers to the name of Sam.
Every night for the last week, *something* has woken him between midnight and 2am and we have no idea what the *something* is. Each night he has tottered into our bedroom holding his pillow (I figure the four we already have on our bed are not to his liking). He clambers over Andy, plops his pillow in the middle, pokes my head, waits for me to turn over and then beams his cute little smile into my face and puts his head on MY pillow! Our bed's wide enough for three pillows to lie in a row as it's six feet wide for goodness sake, but he hijacks MY pillow! After lots of shunting to and fro, pulling his feet out of Andy's ribs, getting his face out of my face, he finally settles down to sleep.
Years ago I would have taken him back to his bedroom, as I did with the other three, but this time round I'm not so bothered. I like him next to me. Sam's my baby and he's growing up. One day he won't want to snuggle next to me and smush his face next to mine and share my pillow. One day when he comes into my room clutching his pillow it will be because he's feeling ill, not just because he wants a snuggle with his Mummy and Daddy. He's my last baby and I want him to stay like that - just a bit longer.