Best news ever, guys – I got my new phone today! I’m so excited. It’s so new and shiny! Just shows how young I am that I get totally hyper whenever I’m due an upgrade.

Well, young mentally. Heaven knows physically I look way beyond my 33 years.

I’m sure you will all be relieved to hear that once again I have remained faithful to Samsung and EE.

Just wanted to make you all aware of this so that you would sleep soundly tonight.

I was a bit miffed having Googled contracts on other networks to find I’d not exactly got the best deal – but hey, it won’t kill the kids to miss a couple of meals.

Speaking of kids, you would think that I’d just given birth for the third time.

All of my buddies were texting me constantly asking if ‘he was here’ once I’d reached my delivery date.

I have to say that not only was the arrival of the Galaxy 7 a much more pleasant experience than giving birth, it was so much more rewarding.

For starters the phone did not need attention every second, though I was happy and more than willing to coo over it and plug in its little charging diaper as the kids fought over a half a bag of Wotsits in the corner.

My best mate even came over and looked genuinely pleased to see it.

“Awwwhhh!” she smiled. “He’s gorgeous! Are you ready to go to Poundstretcher?”

“No! He can’t go out! His coat isn’t here from eBay. What if I drop him?”

We were both genuinely fearful at the thought of a microscopic scratch on what had now come to be known as Esteban Vincent Lofthouse.

I didn’t want to venture out without him wearing any protective layers, but the reality was that if we didn’t go to Poundstretcher my mate would be stuck at my house using my stuff.

We decided to wrap him up in a tea towel.

His little screen was poking out of the top and he looked so adorable.

Once we got to Poundstretcher I cradled him, pointing out all the electrical goods on offer to him, reassuring him that he would never end up alongside them when he was older.

While we were waiting by the till, I stood, Esteban in hand, smirking and scanning the queue to see just how many people were dying with jealousy.

Then I saw this other mum – younger, thinner, prettier and did I say thinner?

She creased up her mouth as she gently tapped a cased phone against her leg.

“Child abuse!” I whispered to my mate.

Pretty, thin, young monster then proceeded to slowly pull her phone out of its bling case.

“That’s filthy!” my mate exclaimed. “There’s young ’uns about!”

I watched as out of the diamante-clad flip case popped a sleek Galaxy Edge.

Now Esteban looked pretty naff with his flat, uncurved screen.

I was ready to put him up for adoption when the green-eyed monster hit me.

I tripped pretty, thin, young monster as she walked past.

That Edge was more smashed than Oliver Reed on a stag do.

“Aw, too bad, ” I cooed. “Now it seems as though it be I who has the edge!”