“Let’s make the most of your new normal working hours,” My husband suggested a couple of weeks ago.

Sidling up to me with a conspiratorial grin, I ignored the implied “early night” he was referring to and imagined an evening of no cooking, a romantic film and candlelight. I nodded enthusiastically.

Later that day, the (self-confessed) Northern Love Machine came home with a bottle of prosecco and two large bottles of posh beer. At 7.30pm we dimmed the lights, cracked open the booze and toasted the future.

And then my toddler woke up. Continue reading »