What three days stuck home with one child taught me

We booked a last-minute night at a hotel but had to postpone - and postpone again - and then cancel. However, a beautiful thing happened…

The day before Christmas Eve, I started to get a cold. Slightly annoying, timing-wise, but other than feeling a bit croaky and tired on Christmas Day, I was fine. I really enjoyed the day.

The next day, I was still ok. But the day after that, I dipped. This was the first day of my three days home alone with the youngest and I felt panicked: what if this was flu and I couldn’t look after him?

My husband and the older two packed their bags and went off on their trip and I wondered how the fuck I was going to entertain my fairly busy four-year-old when even Lemsip wasn’t working anymore.

I won’t go into what happened next because illness is boring to discuss and I’ve said enough already but suffice to say, it got worse and eventually, I had to call for help.

I was lucky to have a parent fairly nearby who could come over, as well as a very kind friend. But what was most interesting - and telling - was how my son adapted to this pretty rubbish situation.