Well it’s back to square one for me, as I’m suffering from another bout of tonsillitis. This is my seventh in around two years now.
Why am I continuing to get this? I firmly blame my children. It’s true what they say, you catch all these ailments from them.
I had chicken pox a couple of years ago after Freddie contracted it. He also had tonsillitis when he was about one. It’s all becoming clear!
I pleaded with the doctor to be referred to an ear, nose and throat specialist, but was told in no uncertain terms that removal is the last thing they want to do these days.
Our tonsils are our last form of defence for our lungs and taking them away from someone my age will apparently leave me susceptible to chest infections and the like.
At my age? I’m not 90! Then again, I’ve heard how painful it is after the procedure and although the thought of just eating ice cream is tempting, I think I’ll leave it.
So thanks to my children, my immune system is running low and I’ve become susceptible to tonsillitis.
But they are so worth it. I’d rather be ill than them. There is nothing worse than seeing them poorly or suffering.
My daughter Holly will be two at the end of the month. Her speech is amazing, some of the things she comes out with are hilarious. ‘Wake up daddy,’ being a particular favourite at 6am on a Saturday.
No wonder my immune system is low. My wife and I are, quite frankly, knackered as Holly’s going through a phase of not sleeping.
She takes more than an hour to settle in the evening, then needs more settling when she wakes crying during the night.
We’ve discovered that a life-sized cardboard cut-out of yours truly, made by my work for a radio promotion with Gunwharf Quays, and putting on Classic FM, keeps her content.
There is something distinctly odd about dressing on the landing at 4.30am looking back at myself listening to the strains of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata wafting from her bedroom.
CAPTAIN PUGWASH AND THE DANGER OF LIVE RADIO
My career flashed before me as I asked a question on the daily quiz on my breakfast show.
What was the name of the deckhand on Captain Pugwash? What could be more difficult? The quiz is called Masterminds and we do it each morning at 8.20am.
As Kate Weston answered ‘Master Bates’ I honestly thought she’d fallen for the old urban myth trap. I could hear Michael Coombes’s brain ticking. ‘Is it Seaman Staynes?’ he said?
Oh no, I thought!
Calls and e-mail’s instantly came into the studio. The response from listeners? Many said they were crying with laughter in their cars.
Kate and Michael’s naïvety was one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard, especially as the answer was... Tom!
WHY SHOULD I SPEND £75 TO STOP MY DOGS SKATING ACROSS THE FLOOR?
When it comes to money for old rope, you’d be pretty hard-pushed to find anything more fitting to describe these than: dog beds.
We have a golden retriever and a Jack Russell.
Their beds are well past it now, so a quick visit to a well-known pet shop was necessary.
A bed suitable for a dog Harvey’s size was £50 and for Ruby, £25. This is scandalous.
I spoke to one of the shop assistants and pointed out it was only a piece of cheap foam and a fabric cover.
I was duly informed that the bottom was skid-resistant. It’s a shame my dogs aren’t because then I wouldn’t need these extortionately-priced dog beds.