We are all sick. R and I kept getting up in the night to nip at the cough linctus. We both have sore throats, too. Despite it being the middle of the night I still found it in me to have a go at him for drinking it straight from the bottle, an unhygienic practice which brings out the nursey nag in me. (I prefer to measure out 2 x 5ml spoonfuls exactly.) Then Emma woke up full of cold and misery, and needing a full-on cuddling offensive from both parents.

I am still ploughing through my book, The Idiot, which took a very fine turn when one of the female characters gave a man a hedgehog as a love token. I would love to be given a hedgehog as a love token.