Today, the learning support assistant in Niamh’s class at school was called away to show someone around the building. One of her tasks is reading out a story — actually, a daily “diary” written by the children themselves — out to the class, which obviously she couldn’t do if she wasn’t present. So Niamh read the whole thing out instead. In the middle of me feeling immensely proud of my daughter for being chosen as the best reader in the class, she knocked a tub of soapy bubble mixture over on the floor of my study. I’m not sure I have a message here. But it’s fun having a daughter.