I thought I’d managed to escape all those nasty bugs over winter – evidently not. I found myself bed-bound recently.

So on Sunday I was awoken by the sudden, painful urge to visit the bathroom. I won’t go into detail but you better believe it was bad enough to call NHS Direct to question what the symptoms of dying were.

To add insult to injury I was alone with the kids. I was unable to leave the confines of my bed and watched on helplessly as my youngest was struggling to crawl whilst pulling along a nappy larger than her torso. Meanwhile my eldest had camped out beside me, encouraging me to breathe in his direction because it was “PE tomorrow.”

Desperate for assistance and empty sympathy I called up my bro.

“Nah! Am not getting it!” he told me bluntly. “I got two steaks in yella sticker section last night to watch with Tipping Point.”

Losing hope, I rang my bestie.

“Sorry,” she apologised. “It’s three quid off books at Opera.”

I was trapped. My body was on its way out and if the incessant whining and repetition of Baby Shark on the iPad didn’t stop then my mental health wouldn’t be far behind it. Luckily my son, still hell-bent on contracting a debilitating illness, was happy to play nurse maid:

“I need… a drink…” I whispered, making my voice sound ‘sick’ so he’d be more inclined to do my bidding.

He trotted downstairs and reappeared with a half-empty McDonald’s cup. I began to cry.

“We haven’t had McDonald’s for two days,” I sighed. “Where was that? In the bin?!”

“Well I can’t reach taps or open lids! That’s the best I could do!” He snapped. “Here, I found those in your handbag.”

He threw a sleeve of pills at me.

“They’re my Alka-Seltzers…” I began.

“Well what do I know? And I’ll tell you something young lady, it better had be because of a virus and not why you usually need them tablets! I know you need those after ‘wine time’ and the girls were here last night!” He was furious.

“Son I….”

“Don’t son me! I’ve got the Easter egg competition coming up and it’s a nightmare getting those Sharpies off my sister! I need you focused!”

That shut me up. I just lay there sipping my warm Coke through a straw with my wide eyes staring at him like a puppy that had just had an accident.

Oh, and it WAS a virus. It seems that by asserting his dominance sonny Jim had simultaneously lowered his immune system. Smarty pants DID end up missing PE after all. That’ll teach him to steal the parent role. Kids… can’t even be ill in peace.