We were all snuggled up in bed having a cosy morning cuddle a few mornings ago.
I say 'cosy', but there was much wriggling by Gilby and vehement protestation that there wasn't enough room for him as he clambered over and under tangled legs and duvet. Five is not an entirely comfortable number for an ordinary double bed, it has to be said. But I had my arm around Gertie who had secured the coveted 'space between mummy and daddy' spot. The nearly-peaceful family moment, however, was but fleeting.
"Mummy, you lied," accused Gertie. I was alarmed. Honesty is something I have tried hard to instill in my children.
"What on earth do you mean?"
"You lied. You said that after Eddie was born your tummy would go flat again. It hasn't, really, has it?"
"Um, not quite, no." My fixed grin only partially disguised the gritted teeth.
"So why aren't you thin like Daddy and me?"
Good question. Because I've bloody well had three of you, perhaps? Of course that is not what I said. "Soon, darling, soon," I whispered, vowing to start the diet any day now. Oh dear. Was that another lie?