Dig goes to Korea. Or somewhere.

Now I feel awful. Not that Dig exited the front door dodging missiles, daggers, or words like Never come back. Quite the opposite. Dig has been with us all summer, mostly. Probably the longest continuous time he has spent at home for several years, all rolled into four months. We got used to him upsetting us, carving out his own space, leaving a step ladder in the office, building an irritating tower of papers on the floor, probably so he can shout at us when we knock those over while avoiding the ladder. And now he's gone.

Thinking about things, it's not the worst. That was Nottingham. When the children were a month old and, back from hospital barely a week - four or five days - I was dreading him going away even for one night because I didn't know how the bottle steriliser thing worked. That was the only time I have ever asked him not to go. Well I didn't exactly ask, more collapsed sobbing, blubbing and pleading somewhere about the level of the floor. Really, I had to summon up all my energy to keep living, forget taking charge of mewling red-faced babies who were so tiny you'd have lost them in your pockets.

That was a long time ago. I'm stronger now, and have realised this streak of Gritness, which is all about melding the top teeth to the bottom teeth and getting on with it. Because if I don't, the only other options I can think of are death, drugs or vodka.

Complaining is good of course, and I'm better at that too. And I will complain this time, because Dig's itinerary is exciting - compared to Grit for whom the highlight is a local field in the mud. Over the next month or so Dig will be feted about Korea, Japan, Taiwan, China.

Let me say now that the more light industrial estates he's frog marched about, the better.

Because of course once I would have tagged along, fulfilling my role in life as a pointless clothes horse, enjoying the top table without having done anything to earn it, except slept with the top boy. Not that I'm regretful about that of course, because it's not a bad life if you can get away with it.

Well we're all left behind now, and the whole household is quiet. Not the crying I would have expected from Shark, Squirrel and Tiger, who probably take this See you later in their stride. Only weeping from me, because I need to have it over and done with so I can emerge to cook veggie rice, complaining about the onions and don't worry, it will be alright because we're going to have fun! Now about tomorrow. Who wants to collect conkers in the field? Ordinary words like that.

Today the only grit I've got is one that's morose, self pitying and heading for the beer.

Tomorrow, I'll be clenching those teeth and heading back to that field, complaining.