Ill crummy mummyHere I am (left), feeling suitably sorry for myself after 24 hours in bed with a stomach bug.

This is the first time a lurgy has rendered me bedbound since BB was born in August 2011, and there are two things I have learnt:

1) Mummies aren’t allowed to be ill.

2) Number 1 isn’t fair.

At least BBB (before BB) there was an upside to being ill. A duvet day on the sofa watching daytime TV while on full pay. Those were the days! And to make matters worse, there’s not even an upside to losing a few pounds through eating nothing but tomato soup for 48 hours. Now reduced calorie intake = reduced milk supply = one unsatisfied toddler.

Of course ploughing on regardless comes hand in hand with being a mummy. I tried my hardest, I really did, but by Monday lunch time there was nothing for it: BB’s nursery was full so Misery Guts had to come home from work and take over. I’m ashamed to say BBB I wouldn’t have had much – if any – sympathy if a member of my team had said they had to go home because ‘my wife is ill’. How times change!

I gratefully took to my bed – and believe me, I really am grateful – where I didn’t budge for the rest of the day. But when I emerged the following morning, slightly dizzy and a lot hungry, this is the sight that greeted me:

The dirty laundry basket overflowing.

Because I hadn’t emptied it.

Washing basketThe dishwater full of dishes.

Because I hadn’t unloaded it.


The cat litter tray full of you-know-what.

Because I hadn’t changed it.

Don’t worry; I’ll spare you a picture of that.

Eagled eyed followers will also have noticed that the bedding in the first picture in this post is the same bedding featured in the picture in my post last Wednesday. The same bedding that should have been washed, dried and folded neatly in the airing cupboard by now.

But it isn’t. Because – well, you know why.

So I’ve come up with an idea. It’s called Dial A Mummy. When you’re poorly, or simply fancy a day off, fear not. Just call Dial A Mummy, who will be round in a jiffy, whisk the little one/s from your arms and send you to bed with a hot water bottle, safe in the knowledge that the smooth running of the household, as well as the childcare, is taken care of.

We could set up local networks by postcode and register our services. Tit for tat.

I think I might be on to something here…