Stealing kisses

It’s what I do.

In the dark, careful not to wake.

Heading up to Newcastle for work. I’ll miss them – A. and the kids. It’s hard, but if the last moment I have is a stolen kiss on their foreheads, then I’ll take it.

Until I am back.

Then all too often the tenderness is replaced by noise – by disagreement. Fighting to get them up to the very same beds I will leave them in. Where this morning I will cover them up – keep them warm. On Friday night they will be kicking off the same covers – testing the patience of the adults in the house.

But let’s forget about that.

For now, remember the innocence etched on their face and the love in my heart. The bond I will carry on the bus, train and bus as I go about my working life.

Stealing kisses – filling hearts. There is an upside to leaving the house in the middle of the night.

Chris Written by:

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