10 years in

and still making rookie mistakes.

Those of you with weak stomaches or sickness phobias will want to stop reading now.

Are they gone? Good.

For the rest of you:

if your daughter, who sleeps in a cabin bed, tells you that she has tummy pains to go along with the high temp and headache that have caused you to put her to bed, supply her with a bucket just in case.

If you haven’t done this, and she calls that she feels sick, do not pause to work out where the best bucket is. Just find something, anything, and take it to her immediately.

Or you too may find yourself transferring sleeping children to bed mats in other rooms and washing copious amounts of bedding at midnight.

Oh, and when your daughter makes a transition to a big bed, that is the time to wean her away from keeping priceless treasures in bed with her.

Or you too may find yourself throwing away Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and washing regurgitated nectarine out of the woollen hair of the irreplaceable rag doll that was an unsuitable present when Grandfather bought her several years ago, and is even more unsuitable now that her stitches are coming undone, her hair is unravelling, and she’s covered in nectarine.

And as for the hank of lovingly dyed fleece brought back from the re-enactors at festival of history – well, I suppose it was washed when it was dyed. So handwashing it gently in lukewarm water can’t harm that much can it?

And if you find yourself composing a blogpost about it all instead of doing the washing up that your poor dp couldn’t do, because he’s in bed with horrendous toothache (you know that it’s bad when they can’t stand up straight!), then face it, you’re an addict.

Please let that have been all. It was quite enough for one night universe.