Dolly got ill for the first time since she was born. Betty then got ill. Having two children ill at the same time is flipping hard work.
One evening, in the midst of the sickly chaos, and after some medicinal alcohol (for Tom and me, not our kids), we had the bright idea of dragging the spare single bed into our bedroom, and putting it next to our double bed, thus making one huge bed. We then all got into bed together, and we were able to mop brows, administer Calpol, and hold sick buckets, all without having to get out of bed.
This was all very jolly (well, as jolly as it could be) for the first couple of nights, but the inevitable happened and Betty got rather attached to this sleeping with mummy and daddy arrangement. And I strongly suspect she was well again several days before she actually admitted to being well again. I swear her acting was worthy of an Oscar. She would say: 'Mummy, I feel rather sick, get me the bowl' and 'please hold my hair out of the way' whilst she spat into the bowl. She would hold a flannel over her head and dramatically say: 'Mummy you must get me the doctor' and 'I am unwell and must not get out of bed, I need more dvds to make me better' all said in gasping breaths. And 'If I take very little bites, I think a sweet will help me'.
So last night I made the decision to boot Betty out (Dolly had left the big bed several days before, of her own accord), and with the help of Tinkerbell, Betty's personal sweet-leaving fairy, she did sleep in her own bed without too much drama.