I’m getting dressed for work, and Ian is lying on our bed and talking. And talking. And talking. I start singing; an attempt to short-circuit his feedback loop.
‘Hallelu, hallelu, hallelu, hallelujah…’
Ian sits up. ‘No,’ he shakes his head, ‘we’re not singing.’
‘Please? I really like singing.’
He frowns, and holds up an admonishing finger. ‘Okay, I’ll sing a little bit. But that’s all.’ I sing again, and this time Ian plays his part: ‘Praise, ye, the Lord!’
We finish the song, and Ian holds up his hand, index finger folded down. ‘That was Praise, Ye, the Lord! Next up is Twinkle Little Star! We have four more songs!’