At the end of the summer, just like the rest of you, I’m sick of the sight of my children

I think I’m on the record as saying that being a parent is one of those things that I just happen to be very, very good at without having to put any actual effort into it. Even allowing for that, at the end of a long, hot summer, just like the rest of you, I’m absolutely sick of the sight of my children and I’m glad they’re now someone else’s problem until the end of October.

It’s, like, 11 o’clock in the morning and I’m sitting in – yeah, no – Gleego’s, having a coffee and flirting with one or two of the Willow Pork moms when my phone all of a sudden rings? Gwen – because we’re already on first-name terms – goes, “Are you not going to get that?” because I’ve let it ring out twice now. Whoever it is, they’re pretty dogged.