The Little Man

Muhammed Talha is the name of my second son. With a crewcut that has patches of hairlessness, and six fully-formed milk teeth (4 on top, 2 below), and no more than 1.4 metres tall, he's an adorable fellow. With his newly-found walking ability, he steadily walks, or now runs, to us in moments of extreme emotion ("I'm happy", or "I just shat"). He just hugs and kisses us with his adult-like twinkle in the eye.

He laughs at my funny faces, and at the delivery of my stupid jokes. He always wants me to carry him when I come home from work, even if for just for a few seconds. My little man.

I put him to sleep every night. I tap his back gently, as he grasps my neck and rests his chin on my left shoulder. At the point of floating off into la-la land, he will start blabbering in his low-pitched voice. It is supremely adorable.

Goodnight Talhababy, I love you.