Letters for my children

Letters from a father to his children, about things that matter.

Latest letter

• 04 Jul, 2026 Kiss Button

  For my eldest,

  School mornings in our house more closely resemble the souks of Marrakesh than the suburbia of Britain. It often feels like a race to get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, get dressed, pack bags, socks on, shoes on and get out of the house so that we are on time for school and work. Similar to the souks, there are multiple rounds of negotiation through this process. Rather than a market seller and prospective customer, the haggling is between a tired parent and a child who can sense an opportunity for fun.

  The soundtrack of our busy mornings is punctuated by clanging cutlery and stomping feet fighting against the increasingly louder phrases of "I'm not going to tell you again", "Don't take your socks off" and "If we don't get a move on we will be late". Whilst the sounds are consistent through the year, aromas tend change with the seasons. From the rich scent of porridge loaded with berries and spices in the cold winters to pitta with sticky honey and fruit in the summer heat. Cereal and toast are plentiful year round providing more options and additional negotiation points once the first breakfast selection is served to the table and subsequently refused. As a parent, there is a point in this daily routine where my internal clock shifts from on time to behind schedule, at this point my patience often wanes.

  But on certain days there is a moment the hubbub falls away and an unusual calm falls over the house. This starts with you asking for a kiss button. Mum stops in her tracks, the important task she is currently doing gets paused. Somehow you have suspended all the commotion, and given us a moment to breath. Mum kneels down beside you with the most beautiful gentle smile and asks where your kiss button should go. You fetch a pen, usually purple. She draws a small heart no bigger than a raisin on your wrist, she creates a matching heart on her wrist. In turn you both then presses the heart making the sound of a kiss, "mwah". she asks you whether you felt it, you tell her you did. You ask if she felt it, she tells you she did.

  You spend the next few minutes both pressing the kiss buttons. Secret kisses are passed forwards and backwards between you. The chaos begins to build to it's usual level. Socks on, shoes on and out the door on our journeys to school and work.

  At the end of the day, we are all reunited from school, work, nursery or any other location. Usually smiles, often tired and always hungry. On your wrist there are the remnants of a small heart. Smudged and smeared, sometimes only faintly visible from your busy day learning and playing. No doubt worn out by the amount of love and affection you have been sending mum all day.

  I wonder whether mum knows how much you love her. As a candid observe it is clear to me how much you adore each other. Amongst the chaos of our days your affection for each other brings me great joy, comfort and satisfaction.

  With all my love, Dad