A tell tale sign

It was shortly after 7am this morning and Jamie had just fallen over for the second time since I'd dressed him.

There have been several occasions in the past when I'd put his shoes on the wrong feet and he'd fall over. So I checked his shoes, and they were fine.

I stood him up again, he shuffled a couple paces - and fell over for a third time.

Vanessa arrived in the room.

"I can't understand it," I said, slightly anxiously. "He keeps falling over. But it's not his shoes. Look, they're fine."

It was at this point that Vanessa went into what can only be described as fits of laughter, her voice becoming higher in pitch with every guffaw.

It must have taken her a good minute to compose herself before revealing what I'd failed to spot.

"You've both his feet into the same trouser leg."

It was then I knew that I desperately need a holiday. And, as luck would have it, that's just what I'm - or, rather, the three of us - are about to have.

We leave first thing in the morning for seven days in the Emerald Isle, mostly on God's Own Causeway Coast, but also including a night in what should be an "intriguing" venue south of the border.

I may or may not update this guff whilst I'm over; quite frankly, it will depend on how arsed I feel.

But if I don't manage to summon sufficient energy/enthusiasm, I hope you also have a good week (and I'd be grateful if you missed me just a little).