Sometimes Dig speaks a lot of sense

I need to sort this problem.

This weekend it's Squirrel's turn to throw herself about on a cliff side and I must transport her there, and bring her home again.

That's not the problem.

The problem is, I would like to stay overnight somewhere en route so that we experience the fantastic countryside that is England.

When Dig is here, and we move around the country depositing children, Dig needs a shower, clean sheets, a flushing toilet, lights that turn on at a light switch, and walls. By those facts, we overnight in a Travelodge. We do not stay in a tent.

But Dig is not here.

And we have a tent.

At this point, it is Michelle's fault.

She put the idea in my head because she has a tent. And she has fun in her tent. You need only to read her blog to realise she has fun in that tent. And it is the sort of fun that I would like. I want fun in a tent. Like Michelle.

But we have a tent.

And Dig is not here.

Solution. Take the tent and the children and go and put up that tent in a field and overnight there, and then we are free to do what we want and go where we please and it will be like Mr Polly all over again except this time the drama will be played out with a happy Grit and her charming children skipping in the countryside.

Problem. I do not know how to put up the ruddy tent. It is like no tent I have seen in my life. I cannot find the instructions. I would carry it up to the field and have a go there but it is throwing it down with rain.

Solution. Try and work out how to put up the tent from first principles IN THE BEDROOM.*

* Do NOT try this at home. Putting up a tent in a bedroom is a totally stupid idea. It does not work. It has no chance of working. The tent will lie in a crumpled up heap all over the floor while you cry.

Update: I have not booked a Travelodge. No. I am made of stronger stuff than to give in.

I have booked a room at a Premier Inn instead.