Yesterday morning Michael was as sick as I’ve ever seen one of my children. He lay in my arms sobbing softly. He had stopped vomiting but he was very warm, even after his paracetemol. We had had a dreadful night and I was on the verge of going to the paediatric service of the local hospital when he had a few mouthfuls of food and a nap and started to recover. By this afternoon he was fine and out on his tricycle. Unfortunately, this afternoon Daniel started vomiting. So I predict, one day and night of vomiting and one day and night of feverish moaning and then a complete recovery. Poor old Daniel though, instead of being lovingly rocked by his mother and father in rotation, he will be minded by the childminder who will have no back up and the other pair to deal with as well. Who’d be a middle child?