De-camping to Brittany with the kids

They’re the words the Irish mammy dreads from her first born son and heir. “Can I go to a disco with my friend?”
“You’re six! You don’t have clean underwear on! You’re my baaaaby!” — is what I wanted to say. “Of course you can, darling” - is what I actually say, clutching the wine bottle — at least something around here is chilled — strangling the sobs.