Night Life and Light Music

I was awoken yesterday by the question, 'Mummy, what is the dark made of?'. My reply was swift and unequivocal: 'No light'.
A pause. I struggled to relinquish the arms of Morpheus. Then, 'Well, what is the moon made of?'
Easy: 'Cheese'.
'Oh Mummy, don't be silly. It's just a big heap of dust. With a face.'

About an hour after going to bed last night, George woke up, claiming starvation. Knowing that a boy's appetite MUST be appeased or there will be no chance of sleep, I offered a much coveted Custard Cream. This was seized with delight, and swiftly summarised- 'A midnight feast'.
As the biscuit went down, George made polite conversation:
G: When I was two, what did I eat?
M: Um, the same as you eat now.
G: (sharply) Plums?
M: Yes, plums, apples, grapes, sandwiches, sausages...
G: What did I eat when I was a baby?
M: Milk when you were tiny, and mashed up food when you got a bit bigger.
G: (Urgently) Mashed up plums?
M: Er- yes, and other food...
G: (Laying back, replete) I still like plums now.

Glad the plum issue got resolved.

George enjoys listening to an ancient Danny Kaye cassette tape of mine from the seventies. It includes such jovial Hans Christian Anderson greats as 'The Ugly Duckling' and 'The Emporer's New Clothes'. I was relaxing on the sofa when George brought his tape recorder to me with this playing, and said in the sweetest, most caring way, in a semi whisper, 'I'll just put some soothing music on, to calm you down.'

And finally, appropos of nothing, when getting ready for bed:
"Did you know the Hindenbergen went on fire?"