It's Hard Work, But Someone's Got To Do It...

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you won't be hearing from me for a while.
Next week I'm off to Seville, on business.

Doesn't that sound good?
I think I'll write it again, just for good measure:
Next week I'm off to Seville, on business.

Actually, all this breezy banter is a cunning way of disguising the fact I'm really in knots about leaving the boys for six whole days.
Sure, there'll be tapas and flamenco and sangria and hopefully a generous amount of sunshine... but on the other hand, I'm going to endure a grand total of TWENTY-FOUR hours on various trains (that's the round-trip, but still...), and a LOT of very irrelevant and self-important chit chat in the middle.
Most importantly, I won't get to nuzzle the necks of these cute boys before I go to bed:



I'm leaving them in very capable hands, since the designated babysitter is of course their father.
But still.
Will he be able to draw dinosaurs quite so captivatingly BEFORE he's even finished his morning coffee??


Or, to put it another way, I am their Maman, ergo I am indispensable.
Or so I believe.

Sigh.
See the problem with having kids?
It's the eternal catch-22: long for a break... then feel heartbroken to be away from them.