I called him in the morning. Not quite first thing, as I (after some years of reprimands) realise that not all 27 year olds get up at excited o' clock on Christmas Day to see what Santa has brought. The sleep in his voice ("no, no, I was awake, it's okay") made me greedy for his warm embrace. He gives good cuddle.
He called me that night. Not quite last thing, though he is coming to realise that not all 27 year olds stay up until 3am on Christmas night, especially not those who have eaten their weight in pudding. I think the sleep in my voice ("no, no, I was awake, it's okay") made him think of my curly hair, and my cold feet. For I, I give good snuggle.
He called me that night. Not quite last thing, though he is coming to realise that not all 27 year olds stay up until 3am on Christmas night, especially not those who have eaten their weight in pudding. I think the sleep in my voice ("no, no, I was awake, it's okay") made him think of my curly hair, and my cold feet. For I, I give good snuggle.
