“Do you want an ice cream?” I asked as he came out of school. Every Friday, during the summer term, the PTA sets up a table from which to sell ice creams to the kids. DS1’s mate Henry was also eyeing the contents of the cool boxes. His dad handed him a quid and told him to get DS1 one as well. DS1 stood rooted to the spot. Henry beckoned him over, but he was

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“Knock, knock,” said DS1. “Who’s there?” “Gene.” “Gene who?” “Genius.” DS1 is currently under the impression that he is a genius. He’s not – very bright maybe, but not a genius. “Mum, have you got a picture of a genius?” “No.” “Well get out your phone and take a picture of me then.” The poor, misguided soul. To emphasise his point, when I pick him up from school he runs over to me, points and

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Over the past few weeks DS1 has been finding it harder and harder to settle at night, often complaining that he “can’t sleep”. Although, if he hasn’t fallen asleep within 30 seconds he gets out of bed to inform of us of this fact. “Well, you’re not going to fall asleep if you are sitting on the top of the stairs complaining that you can’t sleep are you?” I’ve said more than once. The reason

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It’s been wall-to-wall football over the last couple of weeks. When DS1’s not watching it, he’s out in the garden kicking a ball around. He’s now up to World Cup 2058 in his re-enactments (can you re-enact something that hasn’t happened yet?) He has got emotionally involved with the event, feeling the highs and lows of the various teams – though, strangely he is remaining calm, almost unmoved, when England play. I think he is

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