Now though, both Leo and I have a vomiting bug. I am in bed with a plastic bowl and Leo is on his way home from nursery, courtesy of a very brave and very dear friend who is armed with plastic Landrover seats and a selection of towels. B is on his way home from London, via Leicester, to collect his car.
Dash it, it was all going so well.
It's now confined to retching, so long as I don't have to move above very much; then All Hell officially Breaks Loose again.