Small Sprog looked longingly at the house. "Can't we stay Mummy?" he pleads as I carry on packing boxes. "Not really" I say, "It's not really ours to keep"
That was over a week ago.
On Monday we went back to the old house to pick up post. The place, which I have to admit did feel so much like home as soon as we'd moved in last year, was completely empty. It even smelt different.
It's almost a privilege to be able to return to the old home once you've decamped to the new. Not always possible to say your goodbyes to the inside so thoroughly.
Tall Girl went to look at her room while Small Sprog sat on the kitchen work top. She came down again "It doesn't look like home any more" She said, almost disappointed.
"The other house feels like home now" Says Small Sprog, "It's got all our things in it"
Which just goes to prove, I guess, that home is what you make it.
I'm really glad they feel they have a new home now and not just a new house. For me it all still seems a bit unreal.