Tough day at work. I drive home, tired, feeling like shit. On top of that, I have an irritating sore throat and my ears are popping, because of a cold. I get out of the car and take the last step towards the front door and that hour of feeding, brushing their teeth and putting the boys to bed. I don’t feel remotely inspired, to be honest.
But it’s all change once I’ve opened the door. From the bedroom I can hear the faint sound of Bolibompa (a Swedish children’s programme) coming from the telly. In that instant, a happy little voice cuts through the rest. "A-aphf om!!" (Daddy come!) Abbe shouts and I can hear the sound of his small feet against the floor as he slides down the bedside. "A-aphf om", "a-aphf om", he calls out, as he runs towards me and gives me a big hug.
Better than any energy drink in the world.