Breather, biscuit and not a plan.

1. Imagine my pleasure when Alec puts on his art smock, straps on the Scuba gear I made for him yesterday, claps a fleece hat on his head and goes into the nursery to deal with a Duplo fire.

2. "Look, Mummy!" says Alec. He holds up a BN biscuit.
"Who gave you that?"
Alec indicates with the now bitten biscuit: a lanky teenage boy sharing an open packet with his friends half smiles and waves.

3. "...and that's the plan," finishes Alec. I have been listening to Ann and I am about to OK it when I realise he is planning to throw Bettany in the pond as bait for a water monster. Anna and I swiftly compose a dead pterosaur that is lying at the bottom of the garden.