2) The child turns (more) psychotic. Your normal batty four year old is more cray cray than usual. They weep and moan and shout and are super naughty in ways your never knew imaginable. You try to keep calm whilst internally punishing them so hard, if they knew the inner workings of your mind? They would be terrified.
3) Any attempts to feed said poorly child are poo pooed. You try every breakfast food known to man which they refuse. You start to panic that they really are ill...so you resort to the 'Wotsit' which they eat with glee suddenly regaining their appetite. Sods.
4) Any attempts to get fluid in to said poorly child are also poo pooed. You read somewhere that pure orange juice will make them better but also make them sh*t a lot. Panic sets in. Snot AND sh*t? Nobody's got time for that. You resort to the small human equivalent of crack...the 'fruit shoot'.
5) As your husband leaves for work you realise that you are left alone with the snotty grotty, monster for at least ten hours. You race through your brain to think of amazing mother/son bonding activities you can do whilst trapped in the house...however you instead reach for the remote and put CBeebies on. And get the crazy Kinder Egg lady ready on YouTube in case of emergency. Which you resort to precisely three minutes later.
Oh poorly boy...shall we bond over crafts...or do you want to watch mad people open Kinder Eggs?
6) THERE IS SNOT IN THEIR EYES. Oh no! This can only mean one thing??? Conjunctivitis!!! Or is it snot? Or is it conjunctivitis? GAH!? You rinse your child's eyes out with cotton wool forgetting to use a different clean piece on each eye ensuring that if they didn't have conjunctivitis. They bloody well do now.
7) Lunchtime. They are now refusing the 'Wotsit'. You try the 'French Frie'. This is paramount to offering a turd. They gorge on smarties. You gorge on tea. Wishing it was gin. You put your head in the fridge and inhale a whole packet of Jaffa Cakes.
8) You phone your husband. Wailing that you can't face any more CBeebies and when the god damn hell is he coming home? He points out that it is only 11:30am and "didn't you have lunch a bit early?". You scream and feel like you are living in a time warp. Ran by Mr Tumble and f*cking Chris and Pui. You want to kill them all.
9) You've watched CBeebies for so long. They are now showing the programmes they showed in the morning. You keep quiet. He doesn't notice. Phew. You try to nap whilst keeping one eye on your child's snot riddled eye making a mental note to rinse with boiled water later. And instantly forget. You cuddle the child. And get snot in your hair. Sigh.
10) Happy days! Your other half returns and knows it is wise to not question why everyone is having mini cheddars, ice cream and two fruit shoots for tea. Child goes to bed. All is well with the world....
...only to awake 47 minutes later screaming. You sigh. Put the kettle on again. Get the Calpol out and know you're in for a long, long night ahead...