Sunday Sunday. The birds were tweeting as we skipped to church. All the shops were closed which made us so happy to have that special family bonding time. I made a lovely roast meal while the children played quiet games and read books. NOT! The sound of children shouting woke me. I staggered to the fridge for milk to make a cuppa and discovered that Timmy had fed the last of it to Fubby, our huge fat Labrador who needs milk like a dragon needs a lighter.

Throwing some jeans on and telling the kids to do likewise we piled in the car and headed for Asda. I left Ben to tie Fubby somewhere so she didn’t bake in the car. The store was heaving with families. Asda is church! Timmy and Chloe grabbed a trolley and headed for the DVD’s while I shrieked ‘NO’ in my witchiest voice scaring three old ladies and the greeter but doing nothing to faze my kids. “We just want a quick browse….” Chloe started. Ben appeared and noticed the trolley. “Oh cool are we doing a big shop?”“

“No we are getting milk and going home. I haven’t even had a cup of tea yet,” I squeezed the words through gritted teeth and felt like an old bat as they gave each other ‘humour her’ glances, ditched the trolley and followed. I was assailed with so much healthy eating propaganda after purchasing milk and three cheer up Mum’s not so bad, chocolate bars, I felt I had just bought them poison.

Outside, Fubby had disappeared. Panic, tears from Timmy, searching, asking people, and then somebody pointed to the other side of the car park where a trolley was being pulled along by a big fat Labrador. Ben suffered such an ear bashing on the way home that he chucked his chocolate bar at the others, went to his room and played Babyshambles full blast, all day. Chloe ate both chocolate bars, felt a spot sprouting and loudly wished for a proper mother who bought healthy nutritious treats. I drank tea and pondered the rest of the day. It was just 11am. Timmy consoled Buffy with the rest of the milk.