Guess where I've been today? The doctors. For the sixth time in six weeks. When they have the place redecorated, they're going to consult me on my choice of wallpaper.
We've rung the changes today, though. Not only do we have a new sick child - The Singer - we now have, after various strains of flu, ear infection and sinus trouble - The Infected Toe.
An infected toe is what you get when you find a manicure set that someone got for Christmas, and without informing your Mother, you clip your nail. When you have clipped the nail too short and your school tights become attached to it, there is a strong possibility that when you take them off, they will rip the nail further.
If you have ever done this you will know that when you do finally decide to mention in passing to your Mother that your foot is sore, it will resemble that of the largest living land animal and a band of redness will be creeping towards your ankle, giving out enough heat to cook a roast dinner for six people.
Quite honestly, I feel like crying. However, years of marriage to the Father of This Lot have ensured that I am made of much sterner stuff.
I will do what I always do: