I'm just back from a few days skiing and oh what fun I've had.
No, not because of the naked German men who hang out their 'wares' in the hotel spa nor because my prowess on the slopes has noticeably increased. So what was it made this holiday so delightful?
For a start, I think it is particularly delicious to be a mum who has managed to bequeath five days of packed lunches, grumpy wake-up calls, fruitless sock searches and twice-daily school runs to hapless husbands who phone each other, unsure about their ability to survive so long without the respite of a few nocturnal pints.
And even though between us, we've hidden tiny gifts under pillows, left words of maternal encouragement pinned to kitchen corkboards, cooked chickens, frozen casseroles and stuffed wardrobes full of clean clothes, still - like the pain of childbirth - we have already forgotten our blood, sweat and offspring by the time we hit the N8 and the road to Dublin Airport.


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