Please don't call social services - I didn't stage it, he did it himself!

He seemed happy enough napping away under there... although being a paranoid mother I felt obliged to remove it... once I'd stopped laughing (and taking photographs).

Six and PS enjoy some civilised conversation last night, after I had cooked a delightful chinese meal.

Six: Is that soy sauce on your chin, or have you been having oral sex with a menstruating woman?

PS: I don't know... shall I taste it and find out?

Why do some people end emails with 'Best'?

Best WHAT?????

Similarly 'Yours'. No you aren't.

Grumpy old get? Moi?

Don't worry, he's ok, but he had to delete the blog, because whoever it is at work that thinks wrecking his life is entertaining has chosen to do it again.

Obviously with 4 kids between us and the house we're in the middle of buying and the fact that we're really, really broke, it is a bit of a worry, especially as it's the second time he's been pulled up on this. A colleague's contract was not renewed last year because of stuff she'd said on her blog. Won't know what's happening until next week.

I'll pass on any messages to PS.

And if you're out there - thanks. We've both been through massive amounts of stress and trauma in the last 2 years, so we really appreciate your contribution.

My mum and dad, aged nearly-70 and nearly-77, are currently doing their annual Walk, during which they walk over 100 miles in the course of about 10 days.

I can't help but be in awe of their prowess, since walking up the stairs gets me slightly out of breath.

This year they are walking the Cotswold Way. I'm just hoping that, as they stop at various B&Bs along the way, my mum doesn't talk too much about walking the Cotswold Way to people who actually live on it.

This is because my mum always says Cotsworld, and I just can't bring myself to tell her there's no R in it, what with her being a primary school teacher for 39 years and my mum and everything.

Perhaps it's because she's from Norfolk. I lived in Beaumont Leys for a bit (for those not in the know - one of the 'less desirable' suburbs of Leicester) and my dad (also from Norfolk) consistently called it 'Boomont Lays' for the duration.

Anyway. I can't really knock their pronunciation, since they're currently on day 8 of their incredibly long walk. They usually text me every evening to let me know they aren't stuck down a hole in the dark with an owl, but I didn't hear from them last night, so I just rang Mum to check they were ok.

"All fine!" she says. "No signal last night. Can't stop, dear. We're just crossing a golf course."

Just over a year ago, Parsley and I invested in a brand new bed.

No cheap tat, either. Solid wood frame, built to last, that sort of thing.

Except that last night - while Parsley and I were, er, relaxing together - this happened.

Oops.