It felt surreal, reminding my daughter to eat her cereal while I waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Little Man had been ill for most of the Bank Holiday weekend, sickness and diarrhoea had knocked the stuffing out of him.

But on Tuesday morning when I woke him it was different.

He was whimpering and dry retching. When I picked him up he was floppy as a ragdoll and just cried out.

I knew in my gut that something wasn't right.

But the Queen was coming.

Her Royal Highness, coming here to our village. Parking was banned all day. I'd never be able to get to the doctors.

So I rang 111.

And they called an ambulance.

And half an hour later I was sitting in A and E waiting to see a doctor with my poorly Little Man sleeping fitfully on a bed next to me, the sounds of hospital life going on outside the door.

It's hard to believe that just last weekend we were exploring Coombe Mill Farm and having so much fun.

It puts a lot into perspective.

There's a lot going on in our lives at the moment - exciting, fun things - but none of it matters. Not really.