At long last the boy's details have reached the US hospital. Seems a bit ridiculous to be celebrating such a simple thing. But that's what it feels like when it has taken almost six weeks to achieve (no matter how grateful we are that they were prepared to do it in the first place).
And the boy has been offered a place at a local nursery. It's not the one to which we think he's best suited. But it is fairly local and quite a good school. We are mindful that he's a pretty major undertaking for any nursery and they could have given themselves a quiet life by turning him away. So, we will grab the place with both hands. I only hope he will be able to take it up.
In the meantime, last night the boy decided that the sheets on our bed were dirty and needed changing. He started well, helping to take the pillowcases off and put them in the washing. Then, the best bit. Playing 'house' with the sheet. Me and him hiding under the sheet from Mummy and playing with his letters box. But he got bored before the bed was finished. That is him on the half-finished bed writing notes for Mummy (he has seen her write up his daily medical care notes). He is worringly fond of green ink.
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