On Sunday night we heard the repeated pitter-patter of little footsteps upstairs for a good hour after we put the kids to bed. Since there were no cries of “My bed ruined!” or anything, we left Ned to it. Eventually though* I thought it high time I checked. I crept up the stairs and tip-toed towards Ned’s bedroom. looking in, it didn’t seem quite right but in the dark I couldn’t quite make out what had happened, so I flicked the light on, catching the boy completely in this act of naughtiness:
Basically, Ned (not three until January) had entirely emptied his wardrobe onto his bed, he’d crept next door and stolen wifey’s two new pillows AND sneaked back a third time to steal my Panda. He’d made himself a little nest for whatever reason that obviously made perfect sense to him. It was bloody hard to look stern as I set about making his bed habitable again (by throwing everything else on the floor) but I gave it my best shot and put him to bed with a kiss, a cuddle and a firm warning that there’d be trouble if it happened again.
*once Antiques Roadshow had finished.