I am typing this very quietly from the scene of this latest shock development: the bedroom. It is just after 9am, and the Lumpy has been lying in his cot since around 8.30am. Initially he was just staring intently at his fascinating 'egg and chickens' mobile, no doubt pondering the meaning of life and the square root of minus one. This period of quiet had allowed the Mother to actually shower and clean her teeth - a fairly remarkable occurrence in itself. Exiting the shower, she noticed that the Lumpy's eyes were beginning to close - a tell-tale sign of impending sleep, but one which the Parents have learned not to trust, as such a state generally lasts for approximately 4 milliseconds, before the Lumpy is returned to full grizzling, caterwauling indignation. However, feeling reckless, the Mother decided to attempt going downstairs and eating breakfast (she is a wild and reckless creature, it must be admitted). While shovelling Scotch pancakes into her cakehole, she attempted to empty the dishwasher. The Lumpy remained quiet, and she began to hope that the impossible may have happened... She dare not even speak the words aloud, so wondrous and improbable they seemed... Just as she had emptied the bottom half of the dishwasher, and was reaching for a bowl on the top rack, she allowed herself to consider it - the Lumpy must have fallen asleep, on his own, without bouncing, rocking, dummy, pram rides, car journeys, feeding, intravenous hard drugs, or ANY ARTIFICIAL HELP WHATSOEVER! It was surely a miracle, and the god of babies must be praised.
And then he started crying.
Oh well. It was a nice thought.