50 shades of mucus

You know when you're ill? I'm not talking about a tiny sore throat or a slightly stuffy nose. I'm talking about when you feel like an elephant is sitting on your chest, when you can't breathe through either nostril, and your lips are too chapped to open your mouth, and then - as if if that weren't enough - you get an attack of the screaming shits?

Yes, that. That is how I have felt for the last week. Having had "proper" flu about three years ago, I wouldn't describe the recent illness as flu, but I think the medical name is "a fucking awful cold that just bollocksing won't go away". I think it's Latin.

The baby helpfully seems to be an active volunteer in the Revolting Child Germ Rota, and is kindly passing all of her disgusting germs on to Mummy and Daddy. I can no longer remember what she looks like without a snail trail of snot dangling from each nostril.

You know you've just given up caring at the point you pick the baby up, kiss her on her cheek, realise you've just got a mouthful of another human being's snot and think, "Oh well," and continue with whatever you were doing. (Usually you were on the way to make another Lemsip.)

Side note: why does Lemsip taste so awful? Come on scientists, pull your finger out. (They're probably all off sick.)

So yes, our entire house has been like a plague ship for the last - believe it or not - month. I didn't know it was possible to be ill for so long, without a hospital being involved. I also realised that I am an extremely moany patient, and if I ever did get anything properly serious (I'm talking hardcore here - tonsillitis or a hurty toe or something), I think I'd have to investigate our local morphine / heroin market.

We have spent approximately 30% of this week's disposable income at Boots. I wish this wasn't an exaggeration.

So I haven't really got much to tell you. Though I can recommend cold and flu remedies and different brands of tissues if you'd like.

I doubt you would.

Sorry.