I might have mentioned that I am slightly obsessed with the Olympics. We haven't actually moved out of the house for two whole days, I have choked back the tears on a number of occasions and was in floods of them during the show jumping phase of the eventing today. The kids have wondered and stared at their mother leaping off the sofa, punching the air, tears rolling down her cheeks - worried that I was sad or angry, or both.
Off to bed they went today, at 7.30pm so that I could watch the swimming. And then the sweet pitter patter of not so tiny feet.
"Mummy, I'm really sacred, there are snakes in my bed...." exclaimed P.
"Uh hum, " I replied, ignoring her, my parenting duties over for the day and Hannah Miley was about to swim for Team GB.
"...and, and ,and, then a great big orange and black spider crawled across my duvet..." she added, eyes glued to the screen and inching her way to the sofa as I cheered the swimmers on.
"AND THERE WAS POO EVERYWHERE!!" she added for dramatic effect.
That was the deal clincher. So I swept her up in all her pyjama-d glory and we hugged until the end of the race, when A walked in quietly, pretending to be unnoticed. I smiled at them warmly, adoring them so much, not wanting them to miss out either. So we snuggled up and revelled in the energy of the Olympics together.