It’s a lovely round number, 2010.
Neat and tidy, not missing any bits like 2009 and without the scraggly unwanted bits we’ll have with 2011.
It crept in nice and quietly, sneaking in hidden amongst the debris of Christmas, and before we saw it, it had settled on the sofa with its feet up on the table.
3 days in and we are about to return to work after the holiday. Normally the last day before going back to work is reminiscent of Sunday evenings when we were at school, watching the evening get darker and listening with dread as every theme tune on television counted down the minutes to bedtime and a new school week.
Not this time.
Today, and tomorrow, and the whole week, will be another cross on the calendar, another day closer.
I feel like channeling the great George W. by saying 'bring them on!'.
Upstairs in the attic, two clothes horses are covered with freshly washed and drying clothes. Tiny clothes. Vests, t-shirts, hats, pants, suits, and jackets, that all seem like they should be adorning a cabbage patch kid, not a human.
The socks are so small they have to be carefully balanced on the rails. Sneeze and you would knock them off. I did.
Tomorrow is the first Monday of the New Year, and all the hustle starts again, but for now it’s completely silent and our child’s laundry is hanging up to dry.
6 weeks, 2 days.