Poorly

AFTER three years of being a dad, one thing that I just cannot get used to is Harry being poorly.

To be honest, it leaves me feeling stressed – which is shorthand for grumpy.

Now we have been relatively lucky in that regard – Harry isn't a particularly sickly child, although he does struggle a bit with his tonsils. Like all children, though, he does pick up everything that's going around at playgroup.

Anyway, last week Harry picked up a cough and cold, with a slight fever thrown into the mix just to make life interesting. So, on Saturday Harry spent all day on the sofa doing absolutely nothing except watching television, reading and sleeping.

Being used to tearing around after him all day, this felt unnatural and I spent the whole day sat next to him, worrying.

By bedtime, he was shattered and although he went to sleep in his own bed, it wasn't long before he turned up in our room and I was banished to Harry's bunk. As Melissa readily pointed out the next day, I did get the better end of the deal – Harry tosses and turns at the best of times so you can imagine what he's like when he's got a fever.

We got up at 5.20am on Sunday, and Melissa had to go back to bed shortly after to get some rest while I – guilty at having had some peace during the night – tried to keep Harry entertained downstairs.

By Monday morning, he was a little brighter but still feeling rough; I felt guilty leaving Melissa to fend for herself while I went to work. Sure enough, Monday was another tough day for Melissa. Goodness knows how much harder it will be when we've got another one to look after.