I hate having a cold in summer. It seems OK in winter to want to take to your bed or crash on the settee and feel sorry for yourself, but when the sky is so blue and the temperature perfect for floating around in summer frocks, it's just wrong, very very wrong.
Yes, yesterday Isobel and had fun in the garden but we were meant to be enjoying a barbecue and then a night out in Brixton (well,OK that bit was just me) but nope, Mummy couldn't face the journey. Mummy needed an afternoon nap and, for once, what mummy needed mummy got. And then Mummyc rashed by 9:30. 9:30 on a Saturday night!
I seem to constantly be battling some kind of bug, injury or pain (no I don't mean PD, but now you mention it...) - ether I'm attention seeking or am taking the strain.
(And I can't blame it nursery: Isobel has been snot free for about a week now)
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