Maybe it was the pickled onion (sliced) in my Saturday lunchtime sarnie that did it? Either way, I'd advise that this week's EDitorial be skipped by those of a delicate constitution.

Let's go back to Thursday evening, and lounging very contentedly on the sofa in front of Channel 4's terrific drama, Shackleton. We'd got to part two, the Endurance was well & truly stuck, and the real heroics were about to unfold.

Cue a commercial break, so made for the kitchen in search of coffee and the remnants of the Christmas confectionery. En route, in the hallway, heard a commotion upstairs, swiftly followed by appearance of four-year-old: "I've been sick in my bed!", she wailed.

Not pleasant. Bedding off. Change of PJs. Tried to clean her hair. Eugh! Back downstairs, washing-up bowl close to hand, asking her if she's OK every minute.

Half-an-hour later, trying to catch up on the adventures of Sir Ernest, thought I detected more noise on high (six-year-old had had a temperature during the day). Through the stairgates, disturbance instead from bedroom of eighteen-month-old. Light on. Found him standing in cot. Also been sick. Very unpleasant. More de-bedding and general hosing down. And so the two of them continued, taking turns until 1am.

Thoughtfully I waited until late Saturday afternoon when they'd largely recovered before catching it myself, being prostrate at the porcelain as Ipswich went 3-1 up against Dagenham & Redbridge. Thankfully the 24-hour bug's now moved on in search of new victims. I only hope that Shackleton made it back.

Be seeing you!

Ed