Recently one morning I was sitting on the sofa, minding my own business & attempting to think about something, probably. Then I felt something on my head.  Ellie had climbed up on the sofa behind me & was rubbing her hands through my hair.

“How nice”, I thought, “My loving little girl is giving her dear old Daddy a head massage”. As I later found out she actually had chocolate ice-cream on her hands & was being a bit creative in getting them clean…

Ellie, getting into her dinner-chair, & again impressing me with her command of complex sentences: “This is mine isn’t it?”.

In the car the Mummy is trying to explain to me the complex machinations of what’s going on with Michael Jackson’s kids: “So Janet & another brother broke into the Grandma’s house while she was on holiday & the kids were left there, then…”

“So the Grandma has custody?”

“Yes, but…”

Then a little voice from the back seat: “I like custard”,  ”And me!”.

And, quite frankly, I think our kids are a lot better off than the Jacksons, money or not, even if they don’t always have custard!