DREAM HOLIDAY

Alfie looked up from his Lego. ‘When are we going on our skiing holiday, Mum?’

‘In three days,’ I said.

‘That’s 72 hours,’ Alfie said cheerfully. ‘Or 4,320 minutes.’

I ruffled his hair. ‘I’m glad you’re excited.’

‘I had a dream about our holiday last night,’ he said. ‘We had strawberry sandwiches for dinner and we bought lots of red things.’

I laughed. ‘What a funny dream.’

Red was Alfie’s favourite colour at the moment. He was obsessed with all things red.

‘And we slept in a little house with wheels.’ Alfie held up his Lego construction. ‘Look, Dad.’

Connor came over to look at it. ‘A caravan?’

Alfie nodded.

He had a strange sort of sixth sense, our son

Connor and I exchanged looks. He had a strange