The Temperature Gun

On Wednesday, my son woke up very not well. We did the temperature gun and it was 36 point five. He's what I don't want to do. Google it. Fucking, Elmate. The word death is very high up on the Google. And so you're like, well, we've got to go to ANE now. Go to ANE. Fine. So this weekend Rose goes away. And I'm one on two bit. So Rose goes away five a.m. On the Saturday morning. Which is good because I'm doing sleep restriction. It's great. I have a bit of time on his own. Sounds absolutely brilliant. That's my hour