It’s been at tough week, with highs few and far between as we all went down like dominoes with a nasty cold/flu bug. This peak is from earlier today, when we were in the car, and the usual bickering battle, “My mummy,” “No! MY mummy,” began to start in earnest.
Today I’ve had my hair pulled, my nose tweaked, my spots jabbed at, and my boobs prodded. I’ve been handed bogies, pants full of poo, dirty tissues and bits of fried egg that are deemed yucky. I haven’t been given the option of having the bathroom to myself when showering or going to the loo, and . . . → Read More: This is my space