Off he went to bed, lolloping up the stairs like a labrador.
It turns out I can’t stop time because this morning at 7am an 8 year old bounded into our bedroom.
I’ll miss that seven year old. The boy who charges up and down a football pitch with such focus, talks endlessly about Minecraft, eats nonstop, gives hugs without being asked, loves his dogs, hates wildlife programmes because animals die, has a wicked sense of humour, is THE best dog walking companion.
I look forward to 8 year old adventures, surely eight is only bigger and better than seven?