If you’re putting your child to bed in a rush tonight – stop.
If you’re yelling at them for the 10th time to brush their teeth, to get in their damn pyjamas, to stop tormenting their brother – stop.
If you’re thinking of skipping the bedtime story to get a jump on your emails, or that bottomless basket of washing – stop.
Because if you’re putting your child to bed tonight – you’re outrageously lucky.
If everyone under your roof is healthy and close, you are audaciously, ridiculously lucky.
Stop for a moment and feel it. Hug them.
Breathe in the smell of their hair, feel their weight in your arms. And tell them you love them. Because tonight there’s a family in Perth who will never get to do that again.
Their little boy is gone.
He was so loved that yesterday he stopped an entire suburb in its tracks for a frantic search.
Yesterday morning, the members of the Trott family were following their familiar routines, ticking by to the familiar rhythms of a family home. The only change to an ordinary Tuesday morning the arrival of workmen installing mirrors at the house.