Sebastian, my eight year old son, has a new game. He pushes me onto the bed, and then starts laughing. Reason is he knows I can’t get up again. He then puts out his hands and I hold on. He pulls. It gets awkward if my leg is jammed against a doorframe. He pulls harder. More laughing. I try not to let go, otherwise he’ll fly across the room.
After five minutes and no progress I tell him to go to bed; I will ask mummy to do it when she gets back. He’s not having that. One massive pull, eyes glued to mine, ‘I’m doing it, daddy’, then I’m sitting up. Five minutes later and he’s asleep.