Chris Richmond's Notebook.

Today, Mouse ran downstairs and sat at the breakfast table and said, "Daddy, I had a plan in the night! I had a dream."

"What plan is this, then?" I asked.

"Put down your toast!" she said, "Mummy said men can't listen properly when they're doing other things."

I obediently put my toast on the plate and Matthew grabbed it and ate it. "That's stealing!" said his sister, "You'll go to prison for that. They'll bang you up, mate!"

Our unrepentant little thief simply wiped jammy fingers on Mouse's hair. She squealed and clutched at her sticky hair. "Did you see that? He jammed me!"

"Let's not panic." I said, "Mummy will come and clean you up."

"Daddy, I just washed!" said Mouse.

"Tell me your plan." I said, hoping to deflect her murderous glare from her baby brother.

"I'm going to be Prime Minister and I'm going to make it law that everyone has to be nice to everyone, except to little brothers who smell like pigs."

"I think you need to be nice to them, too." I said.

"I don't think your plan is as good as mine, Daddy." she said.

Later, Emma phoned. She told me Alex has leukaemia. He wants to talk to me. I arranged to go over there tomorrow. It's quite a shock. He's always seemed so healthy.

Rory called me yesterday, which is unusual. He said he needed a psychologist's opinion. I said, "Well, I'm a psychologist. How can I help?"

He hesitated, then asked, "How bad a parent can you be without making your child an emotional wreck for life?"

"Why don't you tell me what you've done or not done, so I know what I'm talking about?"

"On Valentine's Day," he said, "Bryony seemed jealous that Emma was showing me any attention. She kept whining and screaming and wanting to be fed, even though she wasn't really hungry."

"One of the hard things we have to accept in the early months of life is that our mothers and fathers have other people they care about, including each other. A baby knows very little, but she does know that she relies on these two people and it can be scary to find she is not the only thing that matters to them. Jealousy and a need for reassurance is a natural response. With time, she'll understand that the fact that you love each other doesn't stop you wanting to take care of her. How did you handle the situation?"

"Well, we tried to calm her down. I wasn't much use. It was Emma she seemed to want. Emma was holding her, feeding her and talking to her nearly all day."

"So when your daughter, by the only means available to her, told you she was scared and needed to be told she was still loved, you two used every means available to you to make her understand that she was still your priority. In other words, you dealt with it very well. There are those who would have left her crying. I was told once that to go to a crying baby shows him that the world revolves around him."

"It should!" said Rory, "I couldn't ignore Bryony when she cries. Crying is her only way to say what's bothering her. It's not like she could write me a strongly-worded letter."

"Quite. She does it to communicate, If a small baby is ignored when she cries, it doesn't say, "Stand on your own two feet." because that's not possible. It says, "Yes, we know you're vulnerable, we know you're scared, but we're not interested in your feelings." Keep telling Bryony the world does revolve around her. Teach her to trust your love for her. As far as I can see, you're doing everything right. You're not a bad parent, you just lack confidence. Lacking confidence is what parents do best."

Current Mood: content

Emma came to see me today, having left Bryony with Rory. She seemed very relaxed about that, although she didn't want to be away long. "How are you?" I asked.

She smiled and said, "Would you believe he still loves me?"

"Of course he does!" I said.

"I don't mean cosy, companionable stuff. I mean he is still in love, in love enough to court me as if he hadn't caught me."

"Did you expect him to lose interest?" I asked.

"Yes, I did. I never thought he'd still be so romantic after two years of marriage. When we had Bryony, I thought he'd soon stop seeing me as attractive and see me just as her mother, but he never misses a chance to get romantic. He even put a note on her cradle."

"What did it say?"

"Just, 'I love you.' It was sweet. Now Rory is doing some of the feeds and it helps a lot. I don't have to be awake half the night."

"Before the christening, things were going badly, weren't they?"

"I got jealous. I do that. I get insecure, then I get jealous. I think it's all sorted out. He does love me."

"He certainly does." I said.

Mouse ran in, arms outstretched. "I'm an aeroplane, Daddy!"

She left again, making loud engine noises. Emma watched her go, then she said, "Bryony has been trying to talk. I know that sounds unlikely, but she has."

"Doesn't sound unlikely at all." I said, "They start to try quite early."

She smiled and thanked me and went home to her daughter.

I took Mouse to see Bryony again. She was very excited. Her loathing for babies seeems to have vanished. In fact, she now says she wants a little sister. I said our next baby might be another brother and she said, "Daddy, that's a risk we'll have to take."

Emma seemed very cheerful. It's nice to see her not worrying about the office. I told her motherhood suited her and she smiled. Then Rory told me that half of Ireland will be on the way over during next week, gathering at Whiteturrets for Bryony's first Christmas. He said I should come over as often as possible over Christmas and Mouse said she must get Bryony a lovely present.

On the way home, Mouse said, "I made the baby laugh, Daddy."

"You're very good with her." I said.

"Can we come at Christmas?"

"We have to." I said, "Father Christmas will be here at the big party."

"I can tell him he has to give me a baby sister."

"Or brother." I said.

"Well, maybe, but a sister would be better."

Current Mood: amused

The four of us went to see Emma and Rory and the baby today. Mouse was so excited she couldn't do up her shoes and when she finally got to see Bryony, she said, "Look! She's beautiful! Why didn't we get a pretty one instead of Matthew?"

"Baby!" said Mattie, then he toddled off to fling his arms around Blade and say, "Dog! Good dog!" Blade was untroubled. He likes kids, even when their affection is a bit overwhelming.

Mouse turned to Emma and said, "Do you think Bryony like me?"

"Of course she does!" said Emma.

Mouse beamed. "Good. She can be my friend."

When I got a chance to talk to Emma alone, she told me she'd left Bryony at the Post Office yesterday. She asked if I thought it made her a bad mother. I told her about the time Mouse was left on the bus because Caro slipped into a similar kind of pre-baby habit. I asked if Rory had given her a hard time about it. She smiled and said, "Rory was sweet about it. He never has a go at me. I forgot the birth for a while, it was all a bit lost in a haze of mushiness, but I can remember it clearly now. He was wonderful. I was scared and he just made me feel safe. He's great with Bryony."

"So are you, by the look of it." I said. She looked very pleased.

When we left, Mouse had to kiss Bryony goodbye. She was reluctant to leave her at all, but I promised we would bring a present from her to Bryony next time. As we were going out of the door she said, "Doesn't Emma look pretty?" I glanced back and saw that Emma had heard.

Rory had too. As he saw us to the door, he said, "Your daughter can come back anytime. That's exactly the kind of thing Emma needs to hear."

"I don't doubt she hears it from you." I said.

Current Mood: cheerful

Well, Mouse and I went "trickle treating" as a witch and her cat. I feel I should dress as a cat all the time. A lot of people said I was sweet. It was slightly spoilt by Mrs Piper offering me a bowl of cat food, but she relented and let me have some biscuits instead. I needn't have worried about Mouse getting scared, She was telling stories that terrified a lot of children two or three years older than her. Some of them made me look over my shoulder a bit.

When we got back, we found an e-mail saying that Emma had given birth to a girl. Since then, we have been sent pictures. Bryony is adorable. From what Rory tells me, Emma was a bit unhappy for a few days, but there's no sign of post-natal depression.

They asked us to be godparents. We agreed at once, of course. Mouse is now calling herself the fairy godsister. She has a picture of Bryony on her wall and she is getting very excited about meeting her. Matty looked at the pictures and said, "Baby."

"Yes," said Mouse, "But she's the nice kind, not the icky kind like little boys!"

Matty grinned at her and said, "Girl!"

"Boy!" said Mouse.

I dread to think what will happen when he wants to go out "trickle treating".

Current Mood: indescribable

Mouse came running up to me today and said, "Daddy, I love you a hundred times more than anybody!"

"I love you too, Mouse." I said.

She turned to her mother and said, "Daddy says I can!"

"Can what?" I said.

She grinned at me. "Don't worry."

"I have to know what it is before I can agree."

"I'm going trickle treating!"

"Where? With whom?"

"Who's whom?" she asked, "I'm going to be a witch."

"Well, I'd have to go with you." I said.

"Of course, silly! You can be my cat!"

"Are you sure you won't frighten yourself?"

She laughed. "I'm not scared!" she said scornfully, "Honestly, Daddy, I won't be a real witch! Anyway, it's portant for my dressy up side to be somethinged."

"You mean for your imagination to be encouraged."

"That's the bunny!" she said.

"You sound like Emma." I said.

"Good! When I'm big, I'll be just like Emma and make Doctor Gary all frightened."

"Do you have a costume?" I said.

"We're going to make one." she said, "Get your scissors. I got sparkles."

"Do witches have glitter?"

"Witches have what they want." she said.

"I have a feeling that's all females." I said, "Now, you know that ghost stories can be very scary, don't you? If anybody says anything frightening ..."

She took my hand, "Daddy, I'm going to be with you. If anybody says scary things, tell me. Emma says ghosts don't bite."

"Good."

"It's vampires that bite, and werewolves."

"I can see I will have to talk to Emma."

"Yes, she knows all about those things."

Creating the perfect costume occupied me for some time. It's not quite finished, but she's almost happy with it. I hope I'm doing the right thing,

Current Mood: creative

Devon was wonderful and we had a great time. I don't have a single item of clothing not full of sand and getting an hour inland on the way home and then noticing that Mouse was playing with a live crab added to the fun.

We pulled over to the side of the road and I spent ten minutes explaining why "Claude" would not be happy at home. Eventually, she agreed to take him back to the sea so that the mermaids would find him in time for the birthday party their Queen was having.

When we got back to the sea, Mattie shouted, "Nudder holiday!" and we had to make a sandcastle.

Eventually, we did make it home. Needing a rest after all the hard work of the holiday, I fell asleep in the armchair. I was woken by Mouse saying, "What's wrong with Daddy?"

"Don't worry, Mouse." said Caro, "Daddy's just feeling his age a bit."

"Am not!" I said.

Mouse kissed me. "I 'spect I will be sleepy when I'm twenty-one." she said.

When she had put the children to bed, Caro came and said to me, "What happened to never lying about your age?"

"Maybe it's you I lied to about it and I really am 21."

"After ten years of marriage, I hope not." she said.

"So I'm old. Get me my slippers and pipe, woman!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Call me woman again. I dare you."

"No, it's alright. Ill get the dog to bring me my pipe and slippers."

"You don't smoke and the dog ate your slippers."

"Well, I think that covers everything. If we're sure the luggage is crustacean free, let's get some sleep."

Current Mood: tired

Caro and I are off to Devon next Friday with the kids. We love Devon. Caro adores the coast and the beautiful gardens and the history of the place, I like the cream cakes. Last time we went there, Mouse kept telling people we were going to Heaven. When we were there, she kept saying to people, "I like Heaven. Lots of flowers."

I know there are lots of holidays where you dump the kids all day and relax, but what good is a beach without a little child trying to bury your feet under a pile of sand and a live crab? I may be mad, probably am, in fact, but I love the feeling I get at the crack of dawn when a little girl grabs my foot and says, "Out of bed, now! I want to see mermaids!" I even like Mattie's loud wail when he wakes up and no-one is immediately available to play. It makes me feel needed.

This year we'll have the dog with us too. I am, aren't I? Quite mad.

Current Mood: crazy

I was worrying about Emma and Rory yesterday. Lack of any news was beginning to bother me. Then I got a long e-mail from Emma saying how happy she was, how well the pregnancy is going and again and again, how wonderful Rory is being. I can tell when she's putting on a brave face, and I know she isn't.

Our dog Sara has settled into life with us very easily. For example, my armchair is now pretty much hers and I often end up on the settee, looking resentfully across at Sara, who wags her tail and then goes back to watching the birds on the birdtable outside.

I am amazed to find that Mouse has not lost interest in feeding, grooming and walking Sara. Lara Patrin has also fallen in love with the dog and she often comes round and they sit together brushing Sara and saying, "You'll be so pretty!" Sara loves the attention.

Yesterday, Matthew pulled Sara's tail. We have warned him not to hurt the dog, but he is very young. She yelped and he was immediately contrite. "Poor Sara!" he said, stroking her. She turned and licked his face. I think he will be more gentle with her now. He's beginning to understand that she can feel pain.

Still no sign of the next little Richmond. I was getting a bit downhearted, but Caro pointed out that it just meant we had to do a lot more trying. I can live with that.

Current Mood: cheerful

Sara has settled into the house well. She adores Mattie and Mouse and follows them everywhere. She has already concluded that when Caro and I are with clients we want no interruption, but she also knows that in the evening, anyone she goes to will be delighted to see her.

She's a great guard dog, careful always to place herself between Caro and any strangers. Mouse loves looking after her and also sits reading to her for ages. Sara has limitless patience and loves the sound of Rebecca's voice. I think getting the dog was the best decision we've made in ages.

Rick says he heard from Emma and she's fine. That's good, because I was starting to worry a bit. It seems strange that I haven't heard from her. Well, I suppose I could call her.

Current Mood: happy

Well, I surrendered. A child needs a puppy and a puppy needs a friend and Emma's brother at the old mill had some springer spaniels. Their mother is Victoria, a very friendly creature. I went there with Rebecca and a puppy chose her.

The brown and white spaniel went straight over to Rebecca and licked her face. She laughed and stroked the young bitch. "I want this one, Daddy." she said, as if I could be in any doubt.

"It's a big thing, having a dog." I said, "Lots of big responsibilities, starting with the name."

"Is it a girl dog?" she said.

"Yes." said Walker.

"She needs a pretty name. She's Sara."

"That is a nice name. Where did you hear it?" I said.

"Mummy's oils." she said.

I knew the one she meant, ravensara, a long name for a little girl to remember.

We took Sara home, and Mouse said to Matthew, "This is Sara. Say Sara, Mattie."

"No!" said Matthew.

"You have to, or the doggie will bite you."

"Bite it back." said Matthew.

"You do and I'll roast you in the oven and feed you to witches."

"Mouse!" I said.

"Dog!" said Matthew. Sara trotted over to him and licked his nose. He fell backwards screaming. "Dog bited me!"

Caro picked him up. "That's how dogs kiss, Mattie. Sara likes you."

He leant down, waving his arms at the dog. "Ah! Nice Sara. Kiss-kiss!"

Rebecca moved closer to Sara. "You'll get used to him. He's a boy. They're all funny."

"Except Daddy." I said hopefully.

"Daddy's the most funniest of all, but if you keep whining, he'll give you a biscuit."

"Now, Mouse, we mustn't give her too many treats." I said.

"I won't, Daddy, but you will."

Sometimes I regret the fact that my daughter understands me so well. Caro was no help, she said, "As Daddy's such a soft touch, the rest of us must be more strict."

"We should put the biscuits where Daddy can't reach them." said Mouse.

Sara and I exchanged a look. She wagged her tail and put her head on one side. I gave her a cracker. Mattie smiled, "Daddy feed dog!"

Current Mood: happy

I'm so glad I got to talk to Emma before she headed off to Ireland. It's clear that she is healthy and, if not entirely happy, at least no longer depressed. She lacks confidence in her abilities as a mother. She told me no less than four times that the baby would be fine because Rory knows all about babies. I told her I'd feel perfectly safe leaving my kids in her care.

I think the pregnancy has been a shock. It was bound to be. First pregnancies always are.For Emma it's harder because she never thought she would have children. I always suspected she might, once she married Rory.

Caro said the first time she realised that there was somebody in there who was separate from her, she was terrified. I suspect that probably got to Emma too. As a man, I've never had to deal with anything like that, thank goodness.

At the moment, Emma is drifting between joy about the baby and terror that she won't cope. That's pretty normal. Rory is a sensitive person. He won't say or do anything to make her feel inadequate. I told her to be honest with him when she has worries. Maybe that was too ambitious, but I think he will guess anyway. He tends to know what to say. Most importantly, he knows what not to say. He won't call her stupid and he won't reinforce her fears. It would help a lot of pregnant women if Rory were available on the NHS.

Gary says I'm letting her down by refusing to help him to persuade her to see a doctor. I told him my conscience is clear. He'a not happy.

Our swimming pool is finished. Mouse tested it yesterday and said she swam with the dolphins for ages. I'm a bit worried about the dolphins. What on earth do you feed imaginary dolphins?

Current Mood: confused

We have a firm rule in our house that children don't bite visitors. Rebecca, of course, no longer gets tempted, but Matthew ... well, let's just say that he has a natural instinct for uncensored self-expression.

Over the past week, we have been pestered by representatives of many parties. I vote Liberal Democrat and Caro votes Green, and most people around here know that and those candidates, if they bother us at all, pop in for a cup of coffee and a chance to escape from the more hostile folk. This year, Labour felt they were in with a chance of taking the seat, so they came round twice. Once, I disposed of the man on the basis that I had a client arriving in ten minutes and did not want an argument about Iraq moments before trying to be calm and supportive. On Wednesday, he came back.

Caro was alone in the house. Now my wife has voted for virtually every party in her time, including Monster Raving Loony, but not, thank goodness, the BNP. She was brought up in the very Conservative Sheridan family and then went off to college where she met me and other bad influences. Since we had the children, she votes Green, to protect their health. She is not a person easily angered by someone with a different point of view. She is, however, very angry at the number of children killed in Iraq.

She told him she could never vote for a party that considered the deaths of children as young as a few months old "collateral damage" and assured him that, should the climate in the deepest pits of Hades ever reach absolute zero, she might give Labour another chance, but as a mother, she could not vote for the slaughter of kids.

All this time, Matthew was playing with his train in sight of the door. As he came over to the station by Caro's foot, which was a shoebox with a teddy bear waiting beside it, he heard the man from Labour say, "But listen, my dear, we had to get rid of Saddam. He was killing far more children than we ever could."

Matthew picked up his train and peered round the door. "Not milkman!" he said.

Caro politely asked the man to leave, explaining that Mattie was worried around strangers. Instead the man reached out to touch her arm and said, "Surely you can see that we had to stop Saddam."

Before she could answer, Matthew ran at the man and grabbed his arm, biting the hand. "My Mummy!" he shouted, "Go 'way!" He swung his train and it hit the man's leg. "'Way! Now!" Then he screamed, "Mouse! Becca!" By the time Mouse arrived, the man had fled and Matthew was holding Caro's hand and saying, "Bad man! Poor Mummy!"

Under the circumstances, we couldn't tell him it was wrong to bite the man. He had seen a man grab at his mother and had rather heroically decided to attack. His sister of course, saw an opportunity and said, "If you get me a puppy, Mattie won't need to bite bad people."

The Conservatives held Foxton. Not a good result, but it could have been worse.

Current Mood: surprised

Yesterday evening, I had just sat down with the crossword when the phone rang. I got up, but not fast enough. As I turned towards the phone, Rebecca grabbed it and said, "Emma! Have you got the baby yet? Is it a girl? Is Rory there? I'm wearing my green trousers. Daddy bought them in Foxton and they nearly cost a million pounds."

"Does Emma want to talk to me, Mouse?" I said.

She turned and looked at me. "Go away, Daddy. I'm talking to my friend." She turned around again, "Honestly, Emma, Daddy can be so rude! Are you coming back soon?"

Their little chat went on for agea, though Emma didn't seem to have much of a chaance to answer. Eventually, she gave me the phone, "There you are, Daddy. You can talk now."

"How are you, Emma?" I said.

"All's well so far." she replied.

"Are you looking after yourself?"

"No, there's a long waiting list. Everyone else is looking after me. It gets irritating sometimes."

"You should enjoy it. It's the one time of your life when you can really take advantage."

"It's hard to get used to the idea that it really is a baby. It still seems so strange."

"How do you feel about the birth?"

"Somewhere between totally calm and terrified, depending on how close Rory is. I'm pathetic, aren't I?"

"No, you're not."

"He makes me feel I can do anything."

"I'm glad you married him."

"Me too. Chris, do you ever regret having kids?"

"When the'r leaping at me at 2am on Christmas morning, I have a flash of doubt, but no, I don't ever regret it."

"Good. That's alright then. I keep thinking I'll regret it or that I won't love Hobbit enough."

"How do you feel about Hobbit now?"

"Soppy as a flight of spoons, but will it last?"

"Yes."

"You're a good friend, Chris. I'll see you soon."

She put the phone down. She sounded alright, but I'm looking forward to seeing her and finding out face to face if she is.

Current Mood: calm

Well, we're getting our new swimming pool, with a fence around it to stop unauthorised experiments in drowning by the little people. Rebecca looked over my shoulder at the design and said, "Can I be a mermaid, Daddy?" That's a question that only has one correct answer, so I gave that answer and our official new mermaid went to her bath good as gold because she wanted to show her Mummy how mermaidy she could be.

Matthew wasn't interested in the plans, but when the builders arrived he screamed because one had a moustache, persuaded one young lad to help him stack bricks and then caught sight of the digger and yelled, "Dragon! Dragon!" with a gleeful expression. The builders bore all this with good grace and smiled sweetly at Rebecca as she explained that the pool was for keeping mermaids in.

There has been no news from Emma for a while. In a way, it's good, because Gary keeps asking me if I've heard from her and I like to be able to say no with absolute honesty. On the other hand, I do worry about her. The silence could mean she's having a great time, or that she is feeling really miserable and doesn't want to bother me.

Gary is starting to worry again. He thought she would be calling him by now, or at least that Rory would come round to the idea that she should be persuaded to see a doctor.

Our own attempts at baby three are so far meeting with no success. However, when we do have a third child, Caro is seriously thinking of an unassisted birth. That will annoy Gary. I suppose I shouldn't take pleasure in that thought, but I do. He tried to scare Rory and Emma, and I don't think that was fair.

Current Mood: Looking forward to a new pool

When I had finished work for the day, Mouse crept into my office and sat in the seat beside my desk. "Daddy," she said, "Did Matthew come from Scotland?"

"No, Mouse, Matthew was born here."

She nodded. "That's what I thought."

I waited, sure there must be more. After a while, she said, "Emma must be going to have a girl."

I was surprised at the change of subject, but I said, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, Mattie's a boy and he didn't come from Scotland and that must mean they have gone to get a girl."

"What makes you think they've gone to get a baby at all?"

She sighed theatrically. "Daddy, you said Emma's going to have a baby. Why else would she go so far away? And she took Rory because babies are really heavy and she wants him to carry it to the car."

I said to her, "Your rabbit had babies and some of them were girls, and Tiptop has never been to Scotland."

"Daddy, Tiptop's a rabbit. They don't have rabbit babies in Scotland. They'd be from Spain or somewhere!"

"Emma doesn't have to go anywhere to get the baby. She's already got it, but very little babies have to live inside their mummies."

"That's horrible!"

"Emma would probably agree with you."

"My idea was better." she said.

"Mention it to God."

"I will. And I'll tell Him it has to be a girl. But why have Rory and Emma gone away?"

"For a holiday. They need a nice rest."

She frowned. "I miss them. Will they be back soon?"

"They'll be away for weeks yet, but they probably miss you too."

"Will I be able to see the baby? Will it be looking out through Emma's eyes?"

"No, it won't."

"Good. I don't think I'd like that."

"Don't worry, Mouse, everything will be fine."

"Did Mattie live inside Mummy?"

"Yes."

"Yuck! Didn't she notice?"

"Yes, a bit," I said, "But she didn't mind."

"I'm never having a baby ever!" said Rebecca, "And you'd better not have one, because that would be horrible. Daddies don't have babies in them, do they?"

"Never." I said.

"Good." she said. She took an apple from my fruit bowl and went to ponder life, the universe and everything somewhere else.

Current Mood: surprised

Off I went today to spend the next few days at a conference. It's good to be oput amongst real people, or, in this case, fellow psychologists. I was enjoying the peace and quiet of a train ride with people who didn't ask, "Why doesn't the train have a face?" or, "Are we nearly there yet, Daddy?"

Without paint on my shirt and biscuit crumbs in my hair, I told myself no-one could tell I had two small kids. I was almost convinced as I sat talking psychology with a man called Mark Breydon. We went into a tunnel discussing the problems of transference and projection and as we came out of the tunnel we saw two white horses running across a field. As one, we pointed and said, "Look! Horses!"

There was a moment of acute embarrassment, then Mark said, "So, how old are your kids?"

After that, we spoke about our children. Far more interesting than psychology.

Current Mood: embarrassed

I was woken last night by Matthew crying. I got up as quick as I could, hoping to get him back to sleep before he woke Rebecca and gave her another reason not to like brothers. When I got to him, though, she was already there and I was surprised by the gentleness in her tone. I stood in the doorway to see how she was handling the disturbance.

"Poor Mattie!" she said, "Was it a bad dream? Don't cry, darling Mattie! I know magic to make bad dreams stay away."

Mattie continued to cry and my Mouse kissed him and said, "Don't cry, Mattiepie. I'll make your bad dream go."

She went over to pick up a wooden box from the floor. She brought it over to Matthew and opened it. Then she reached for his shoulder as if catching a small animal that sat there and put her invisible prize into the box. "That's the dream. We can keep it all night and then open the box tomorrow and the sun will light it up and make it a happy dream again." I was surprised at my daughter's grasp of psychology.

Matthew had stopped crying and was watching Mouse with the box. Then she went to her dollshouse and took something equally invisible from there. She put it into his hand. "That's a nice dream. That's a dream about puppies."

He looked at his hand and seemed about to start crying again. Then she said to him, "It's invisible. You can only see dreams with your eyes shut."

Matthew smiled and closed his eyes. "Good dream." he said.

Mouse kissed him, "Nighty night, Mattie." She saw me in the doorway and came over and took me by the hand. She led me to the door of my room and said, "Back to bed, Daddy, or you'll be all grumpy in the morning."

"Mouse," I said, "Are you going to be a psychologist when you grow up?"

She smiled, "Oh, Daddy! Lara and me are going to rule the world!"

"Lara and I." I said.

She frowned, "Lara said I could do it. You're a Daddy. A Daddy can't rule the world. You have to be a girl."

Current Mood: impressed

Yesterday, I made the mistake of trying to sleep in an armchair. I had been up most of the night dragging monsters from under Mouse's bed and sending them away and I just wanted a nice nap to stop my eyes feeling like they'd been sandpapered.

All was quiet when I put down the newspaper and closed my eyes. I fell asleep. I even got to the point where I was about to get into my Aston Martin DB5 and do battle with my old nemesis Blofeld (and, speaking as a psychologist, James Bond fantasies are both natural and positive and in no way imply a lack of maturity). Then my own little Bond villain jumped onto my chest and shouted, "Daddy!"

"Matthew!" I said, trying to sound pleased and delighted.

"Daddy! I love you buckets!" he said.

"I love you lots and lots." I said.

"Wash car, Daddy!"

"Not now. We washed the car last week. Remember? You helped me."

He took my hand and tried to pull me out of the chair, difficult, as he was still on my chest. "Vroom!"

"Daddy needs to sleep. Why don't you play with Mummy?"

"Vroooooom!"

I shouted for help. "Mouse!" I cried.

My daughter came in and tutted loudly. "Daddy, don't make Mattie so excited! He should be having his nap or he will be all cross and bite someone."

"I'm trying to have a nap too. Could you take Mattie away and play with him?"

"Can I have a puppy?"

"Mouse, I told you, we'll think about that. Take Mattie to play with his cars."

"I'll think about that." she said.

"Becky, we don't do deals on things like that." I said. I'm such a great parent!

"Looks like you just have to stay squished."

Just then, my adored wife came in, my soulmate, the one person in the world who loves me unconditionally and would never be unkind. "I'm exhausted." she said, "When you've finished playing silly games, maybe you could put Mattie to bed and read Becky a story."

"Caro," I said, "I'm tired too."

She looked at me in frank disbelief. "Yes, I can see how exhausting it must be to lounge around cuddling a toddler."

Mattie grinned at me, "Wash car!"

"Stupid boys!" said Mouse. She came over and hauled Mattherw away like an irritated policeman dealing with a stubborn suspect. "Come on, you. You have to go to sleep."

"Nooo!!" screamed Matthew, "Not sleepy! No! Daddy!"

Mouse picked up her illustrated Bible, "Do you know what God says? He says if smelly boys don't go to bed when their sisters say, they get gobbled up by rats!"

"Mouse!" said Caro.

"Not my fault, 's in the Bible!"

Matthew started to cry as she elaborated. "First they'll bite off your fingers, then your toes, then they'll grab your squishy little nose and go crunch!"

"Becky!" I said.

Caro took Matthew, "I'll put him to bed. You talk to your daughter."

When they had left the room, Mouse came and sat on my knee. "That's better, isn't it Daddy?"

"Darling, you mustn't scare Matt like that."

"He's a brother, dear." she said, as if I had misunderstood the cosmic order.

"The stuff about the rats is not in the Bible."

"It is."

"Where?"

"After the Ten Commandments and before the Baby Jesus bit." she said.

"Tell me the Commandments." I said.

"Have no other Gods, don't make pictures in gravy, don't say, "Oh my God!" Don't do anything on Sunday that isn't fun. Honour your Mummy and Daddy, even if they are a bit silly sometimes. Don't kill people. Don't be grown up. Don't steal. Don't lie about bears. Don't cover other people's things."

"Don't be grown up?"

"It says, don't admit adultery."

"And the bears?"

"It does say bear, definitely."

"You shouldn't use the Bible against your brother."

She looked at me with a horrified ezpression. "How did you know? I only tapped him."

"With the Bible?"

"Yes!"

"Mattie's smaller than you, darling. You mustn't be a bully."

She smiled sweetly and patted my arm, "Don't worry, Daddy. You know I'd never really hurt him."

Current Mood: exhausted