I've been easing myself gently back to work this week.
On Wednesday I drove my son to Heathrow to catch a flight to Nairobi.
Yesterday I drove my daughter to Gatwick to catch a fight to New Orleans (via Fort Lauderdale) where she is studying until May.
At the check-in desk the woman took one look at her e-ticket and pointed out that the flight is actually on Sunday.
Tomorrow therefore I will not only be returning to Gatwick (a 220-mile round trip), I will also miss the matinee performance of Dick Whittington at the London Palladium for which I had two precious (and non-exchangeable) tickets.
The good news is, my daughter is leaving us with a priceless 3D print of herself. Who wouldn't be a parent?
