… is what u are.
a quick trip to the airport in the evening to let his little legs run free (and this time, even barefooted, seeing how totally people-less terminal three was). just one of our ‘let’s-get-him-totally-knackered-before-bedtime’ ruses. 
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on another note, it struck me as we left the airport that i probably had the most memories of him there, where he used to work, the many years since i can remember of us travelling in planes. for some reason, i had an image of him sitting by the pick-up area at the arrival hall, waiting for us to fetch him home.
the last he said to mum was, that the plane had arrived and was she going to follow him or not…
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