Looking for Pa's missing hat - that is, the hat that used to belong to my father, but which my son 'inherited' as a prized keepsake - I ended up tidying the clutter of skates and jackets and school-stuff and sports kits in our hallway.

Heck! I've been so busy with this thesis that I've allowed my sons to morph into slobs. A confetti of tiny bits of paper, toys, a guitar pedal, gloves, crumpled worksheets, invitations to an award ceremony!, school photo orders, smelly dishcloths (from domestic science) - and we won't mention the sports kits ...

The washing machine hove into action again. Viola Kid (who was responsible for more than two-thirds of the slobbery) has hoovered the carpet and chucked away loads of redundant pages. Two more washer-loads to go, then all I'm left with is accepting the awards invite and accepting the sad fact that we have lost Pa's precious hat. I fear it went to SmallFry's school for "Wear something funnny" Day. I don't remember saying it could, but it did. And I don't think it returned.

I'm a big grown-up adult with a husband, job and three kids, but I MISS THAT HAT!