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WELL it's been joy unbounded this week in the Mum About Town household. The boy has gone and got himself chicken pox.

It was bound to happen. There had been warnings at nursery that the odd child had been going down with it so I suppose it was inevitable.

In a way I am pleased he has had it now. It's out the way and although it is hard to console him because he doesn't understand why his skin is on fire, at least they are less likely to pick and scratch.

That is what I kept telling myself in the small hours when he throwing himself around his cot and latterly our bed in an effort to get some relief from the hot red spots.

He is covered, predominately on his back and tum but the worst ones are on his face. Big blisters all over his once gorgeous little chops. The face that used to turn heads now just scares them.

He looks like he has been a tad too close to a radioactive leak with big blotchy hot patches and yellow blisters punctuating his cheeks.

I dare not let him out, not just because he is contagious but he very well might scare old ladies and young children.

What with the spots, the hot weather and being cooped up indoors for days on end, he was going stir crazy.

When it came to bedtime he certainly wasn't playing ball. Not even when he was a wee baby do I remember a night like these.

In the end we did something we vowed we would never do and that was to take him for a spin in the car. I would have taken him for a walk but I was worried the neighbours would have been woken by his screams.

His dad headed up the M27 and hey presto he was in nod land. When he returned he managed to stay asleep for a whole two hours before he itched himself awake again.

It could be worse though, at least it is the summer holidays and his dad is off work to take care of him during the day. I can't fault the boy's timing. Strangely I have also been inundated with requests from friends with kids to bring him over so he can rub up next to their kids in the hope they would get it too.

A colleague at work was telling me how her friends used to have chicken pops' parties to ensure they all got the illness out the way in one go when they were too young to be that bothered by it.

It did occur to me that there might be an avenue to make some cash out of this, £5 for a half an hour pox rub sounded reasonable. But on reflection I thought making money out of my child's misery was a step too far. Even if I did put it into his trust fund.

11:23am Tuesday 5th August 2008

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