BE careful what you wish for, goes the old saying, because it might just come true.

Finally it has.

When Senior Son was a baby he never slept. Oh, he was brilliant at night, out like a light. But from the age of six months, he rarely had a daytime nap and, even when he did, it was for only ten minutes.

Other babies dozed off for an hour, even two, morning and afternoon, giving their mothers a much-needed break. Not him.

He wanted to be talked to, entertained, stories, song and dance, all day long. His big brown eyes would occasionally look as if they were drifting shut then - snap! - they'd be wide open again, making sure he wasn't missing out on anything.

And he started the days early. At five in the morning he'd be bright-eyed and eager to get going.

He would burble, sing and shout with such joy in life that you knew it was utterly hopeless trying to get him back to sleep.

Bleary-eyed, I would drag myself from my pit, feed him, change him and hand him over to his father, who would take him for a walk. Six miles before breakfast was pretty average.

Twenty years ago round the highways and byways of Northallerton, they were a regular early morning sight.

They walked miles, exchanged pleasantries with milkmen and postmen and, more than once, were understandably stopped by suspicious police. They went so far, so often, that they wore out an entire set of pram wheels.

"If only that boy didn't wake up so early," we sighed.

Fast Forward to last week...

The lad rang asking me to upgrade his mobile phone, which is in my name. I had a busy day so I popped into the Orange shop first thing.

The lady was very helpful but I was confused about which model he'd asked for - all letters and numbers sounded the same.

I didn't dare get the wrong one and tie him in to it for a year.

"Ring him," said the nice lady, offering me the shop phone. It was 9.30am and I got his answerphone.

Well, a chap's entitled to a lie in. But a friend of his was driving down from Newcastle to Manchester the next day and if I got the new phone, he could take it down with him.

It would save me the hassle of posting it and make life so much easier so I persevered.

I went to Marks & Spencer's and rang from there. I kept ringing because I thought the phone - never far away from him - would act as an alarm clock.

I rang him from the car park. I drove down to Northallerton to the dentist, had a filling and rang him from there, my mouth still frozen. I went to the garage and rang him from there. I bought a new car, played with all the strange switches and controls, drove it very carefully to Tesco and did a week's shopping. I rang him from there, too.

I went home, put the shopping away and rang him again. I cleaned the bathroom and loos, tidied the kitchen and sitting room, and was finally polishing the dining room table when the phone rang.

"Mu-um," said a voice so thick with sleep that it sounded as though he was still in the bottom of the black lagoon, "Were you ringing me?"

It was 4pm and he was still in bed. And although just about capable of speech, to describe him as awake, was a gross exaggeration.

It's taken 20 years but at last, my wish has been granted.

Published: 08/02/02