My Darling boy's Perfect school had an inset day yesterday. We were forced to occupy the poppet at home, while his sweet teacher had a day of training. As working parents, we were faced with the usual childcare dilemmas, who were we to trust with the care of the perfect boy? (sigh)

Albena our house-keeper resists childcare so - in my opinion her opposition to caring for our perfect children is simply unnatural. Magda (our Polish au pair) speaks very little English and I fear that she is clueless when it comes to appropriate stimulation and home work supervision. Brenda (my mother) volunteered to care for the tiny man, but she is not be trusted as she fills my progeny with e-number and sugar soaked confections, rocket fuel for children. In the past I have returned from work to discover a pair of hysterical poppets and stressed out grandma. It took me an age to simply coax my darling cats back out of the garage...

Just last weekend, James and I were discussing our childcare conundrum in the garden when Brenda bounced out from the behind a rosebush and announced:

"There is nothing wrong with my water works."

"How very abstract mother, whate are you talking about now?" I replied.

"I heard you saying that I can't look after Max because I can't control my bladder, and it is not true."

"Oh mother, I said you were incompetant, not incontinent."

What a hoot!

Oh how we all laughed...