999

Despite my blogging being even more sporadic than usual, due to my frantic organising of work related events, which will finally culminate on Friday ... I couldn't possibly make you wait for this one.

Breakfast time. Mr Jamie, Beth and I are in the lounge. They are calmly sat at the table eating their toast while I frantically race to put on my make up and get us out of the house in time for 7.30am.

I thought it would be prudent to remind Mr Jamie he was spending Friday at his nan and grandad's house whilst aforementioned work event takes place. I also - ever the sensible parent - thought it would be a good idea to remind him of what he needed to do if there was an emergency. He's well versed in this, having spent a long time 'training' on it last year. Which is why I was slightly startled by the turn the conversation took ...

"So, if there's an emergency Jamie, what do you do?"

"Get the phone."

"And what number do you ring?"

"Nine ... nine ... nine."

"Excellent. Then the person on the other end will probably say 'Hello, operator', and what do you say?"

"Hello Operator."

"And then what?"

"Ummm ... ummm ... there's an EMERGENCY!"

"Excellent. You might need to tell them what sort of an emergency it is."

"It's an emergency because Nana and Grandad WON'T GET UP. And they're not just having a little sleep."

"Good. Good. Ever the voice of doom. They might ask you what your name is."

"Jamie *******."

"Lovely. And how old are you Jamie?"

"I'm four."

"Very good. And now tell me again, what's the matter?"

"I .............. I got the boobies! I got the boobies! I got the big fat boobies and I WIGGLE my boobies, I WIGGLE my boobies, I wiggle and wiggle and WIGGLE my boobies!"

Oh god.