"Good night Stella"
"Good night mummy"
Rustling sounds. The tear of Velcro. Soft footsteps. Bed squeaking. I can hear all of this because ours is a small bungalow and after lights out I am twenty feet down the hall. If I lean off the couch just so and tilt my head to the right I have a sliver of a view into Stella's room. She hasn't cottoned on to that yet and I'm happy to preserve the illusion of omniscience. Anyway, the Velcro sound remains a mystery but the rustling and footsteps I later discovered were the sounds of Spiderman being installed on the bedpost. He's the prized trophy, won after who knows how many rounds of whack-a-mole at Spring Fling - dad's March Break day out. It wasn't hard to do, but I've been badly trumped.
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