Yes, cute and cuddly he may look but I know different!  The photograph is of my grandson Aidan, who has just endured the misfortune of having me - Grannie the Great - to look after him.  Along with his sister Skye, aged 4, they have been under my 'guardianship' while their poor Mum coughed, sneezed and vomited her way through Holy Week and into Easter weekend.

Now you may feel that this particular grannie sounds ever so callous.  Not so.  I endured snotty noses being wiped over every item of clothing I possessed, allowed myself to be covered in what Daughter no 3 calls 'granny ming', did the dirty nappy thing with speedy efficiency and even managed to cook the odd meal.  And all with patience, calm and love!  Honest!!!

Then Grandpa arrived on his white charger, threw Grannie the Great up behind him, slipped a disc or two, and rode off into the sunset in the general direction of Melrose, to give Grannie the Great a wee rest at the ancestral home of Brother and Sister-in-law.

And that would have been lovely if Grannie the Great hadn't decided to succumb to a fit of the vapours and throw up all over Sir Walter Scott's ancient carpet at Abbotsford House, sending the caretakers, as well as the said Grandpa, Brother and Sister-in-law into an orgy of worry!  The caretaker did say that since Sir Walter had frequently held drinking parties of the wildest kind in that very room, it was probably not the worst mess the carpet had ever seen!

So poor wee me!  After a week of caring toil I was whipped into Borders General Hospital in a Casualty-style rescue and poked and prodded, x-rayed and de-blooded, enduring valiantly to the end.  It was thought to be a good idea that I should stay in overnight so that they could send me upstairs and allow another gaggle of doctors to do something similar the next day.

However, Grannie had learned a few tricks from Skye!  She said 'no' very firmly, risking the wrath of Grandpa, Brother and Sister-in-law as well as the lovely Dr Moe, got dressed, signed a disclaimer(!!!) and left A&E, stubbornly disregarding the awful pain that was trying to break out from under her ribs.

But interestingly - and clearly this was too simple for the medical staff - once I got back to Melrose and swallowed two Rennies, I felt almost instantly better!

All well, eh!  The lengths we go to to get a day in bed!  Anybody's bed will do.  Even a trolley in a corridor of BGH.

Incidentally, I discovered that Sir Walter Scott had died in that very same room.  Spooky, huh?

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