I'm sitting with my son on his sheepskin right now, while he grabs his toes and works on a tooth (I think). (Do not even start with the put down your device and enjoy him crap. I enjoy him a lot. I also am an adult and there's only so long I can admire him unswervingly while slobbering on a rubber butterfly). He's just finished a tasty lunch of avocado, preceded by some boob. We went for a long walk in the sunshine this morning. In less than a week his father is on holiday for two and a bit weeks. So, aside from the obvious, life isn't too shabby for me right now. That leads to a lot of guilt.
Christ it's hard writing about the minutiae at the moment. I don't want to delve into Big Feelings but I can't find a happy place in prattling about what I did today, or what I ate, or what I saw, etc etc.
Call it a day.