14 years ago my youngest was born. He was the cause of me leaving work early after dealing with a shit-storm of a night-shift and the reason for me falling ever-so-slightly in love with a settee. He was born on it and I slept on it with him over the first year or so of his life. He spent months strapped to my chest and hated the sound of the vacuum cleaner and lawn mower. We sang and burbled and he must have spent months listening to my heart beating. Even when he got older he seemed to relax when sat upon my lap. I miss him.