After polishing off breakfast, I collected the cereal bowls from the table and switched off the TV.
‘Time to get dressed,’ I said, ushering the kids out of the living room.
What followed was a chorus of miserable groans from Megan*, nine, Sarah*, eight, Harry*, six, and five-year-old Ellie*.
‘As soon as we’re all dressed, we can go out for a walk,’ I smiled.
‘Listen to your mum, kids,’ my husband Kyle, 27, joked, as he poked his head around the door.
It was 7.30am on 5 April, and with the kids out of school because of lockdown, I was keen to get them out of the house for a bit.
Still in our pyjamas, we all headed upstairs – Kyle and I to our bedroom, and the kids to…