A Dad writes

When Max was little he was cute. I remember so well the first time he saw snow, he must have been only three of four. It was really early in the morning that he shouted up to us that the snow was really deep, and as we came downstairs we saw it was still falling, and there was his little face staring through the glass, eyes as big as saucers with excitement.

"Mum, Dad, look snow" he shouted "You promised that when the snow came you’d open the big door for me and let me in!" How we laughed. It’s memories like that which keep a family together.

I like to think of us as firm but fair parents. It doesn’t do to talk too much in detail, but suffice to say that when his little brother was born we were pleased to have a spare in case he got broken.

Before you start laughing, I would like to point out that my body temperature didn't return to normal until I was eight.