Friday 8th March 2013

It's so good to be going home to Droylsden to celebrate Mother's Day with m'mam. It is a shame, however, that my little town which is 3 miles from Manchester City Centre is now synonymous with a spate of hideous gun crimes.

However, the spirit of the place and the people is still very strong and I can't wait to catch up with everyone during this brief visit.

The journey so far has been relatively calm but definitely entertaining. I'm not sure if it is a blessing or a curse to have one of those small rear view mirrors in front of the main rear view mirror which gives you a blow by blow account of what your children are getting up to in the back seat.

So far I have seen Bethan picking her nose whilst watching Toy Story 2 again (yes, yes we gave in and bought one of those portable DVD players. I know we are terrible parents depriving our children of eye spy games but seriously, we can't see anything through this bloody fog. I just want Rob to concentrate on the road and not what may or may not be behind the pea soup 'beginning with 'T' in front of us).

I can also see Sherman (after the tank and my new nickname for James) planning his escape. Every now and then he tells us what for as if to say in babble speak, "Are we nearly there yet? I'M BORED!!"

However, when he goes quiet, I look into the small mirror and see him rubbing his hands, crossing his chubby feet, looking carefully around the car and letting out an evil genius laugh. All he needs is a white fluffy cat and a grey Mao suit and bang! we've got our very own Blofeld on the back seat.

I had second thoughts about giving him his little toy hammer that rattles but he can't use that to escape surely? It's a Ford Grand C Max not Shawshank prison.

As well as the back seat shenanigans we have the erudite and annoyingly condescending sat nav lady telling us that "there are traffic disruptions on route" Rob is screaming, "No crap Sherlock! That's why my car hasn't moved in 10 minutes!!". Talk about rubbing salt in a very raw rush hour traffic wound.

Now the car is moving but very slowly and James is getting more wound up and vocal. Rob has told him that we are nearly there but for some reason our 10 month baby doesn't seem to understand this and is getting more and more fractious.

No! No! The smell of poo is emanating slowly from the back seat to the front seat. Which one of them is it and will we make it to Droylsden in time before mini Blofeld takes us all out as we hover around Meddow Hall????

To be continued...