Just last night I said to Husband, post-candy revelry, "I think I need a Winton date." The boy at 2 and a half, long since weaned and well past the nights when he got to nurse and then sleep next to me, still loves to snuggle, and I love to snuggle, and it's not going to last.
Winton is clearly on the same page in terms of craving soon-to-be-over physical closeness, for this morning as I lifted him out of bed he hugged in close and whispered in my ear "Mummy, you smell like boob."
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