Welcome to Feel-Goodish Friday.

I am feeling very goodish after last night. Very GOOD that I did the show and it was fantastically fun whilst also being the most terrifying thing I’ve done since childbirth. But decidedly ISH coz I sank three drinks v quickly after the gig, crawled into bed at 2am, was woken by youngest at 4am who arrived in my bed after a nightmare and then couldn’t go back to sleep after learning the content of his nightmare:

Him: (in great gulps, with accompanying tears) Me. And Dad. Were being. Β Ch-ch-chased.

Me: (in great gulps, with accompanying room-spin) Oh dear. Just a dream. Go to sleep.

Him: They were in. The h-h-house.

Me: Well they’re not now. So sleep.

Him: They. Were in. My b-b-BEDROOM Mummy!

Me: (stroking his face; specifically his mouth to shut it up) Shhhhhh. S’okay. Shhhh.

Him: They wanted. To-To KILL ME AND DADDY. (Extra-loud wailing).

Me: Ok. Who did?

Him: The. Angry. M-m-muslims.

Me: The who?

Him: Angry muslims. In my ROOM. They had knives. And swords.

Me: (sitting up now) Did you say angry MUSLIMS?

Him: They wanted to STAB ME and Daddy.

Me: How did you know they were muslim?

Him: I looked at their angry faces.

Me: But how did you know they were angry MUSLIM faces?

Him: Coz they were BROWN Mummy. Angry, brown, muslim faces…

I hope I don’t need to clarify that he is not being brought up in a house where we routinely describe muslims as being ‘angry’ or having brown faces.

In fact, whilst there are no muslims in this house, one of his very best friends is muslim and he knows this. It was only a few weeks ago that we visited our local mosque where he hoped to bump into this friend and where we enjoyed a lovely chat about Islam and what his friend’s faith might mean to him.

He is, however, growing up in a house where the news is frequently being broadcast into whichever room his mother is in; where his parents and older sister discuss politics loudly and daily; where he knows the name of the POTUS and that the POTUS ain’t exactly a friend of Islam; where he sat on loo yesterday and read aloud a news headline which included the words ‘muslim ban’ and led to a lengthy discussion about terrorism and Trump.

The POTUS’s hate agenda has now successfully infiltrated the mind of my six-year-old boy, to the extent where it haunts him in his sleep.

My mission this weekend is to fill his tiny mind with stories of innocence and love. (My boy’s, not Trump’s; his miniscule brain cannot be re-washed with goodness).

I will begin with Mog The Forgetful Cat. The Hungry Caterpillar will feature strongly. Hell, I’ll even go as far as reading his school books with him; Biff and Chip seem suddenly less fucked-up and trippy now.

Normal feel-goodishness will resume next Friday when I will have cleansed his little soul.

Are there any kid’s books depicting happy, friendly muslims?

Do let me know…

See you Monday x

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