Rushing downstairs, I knew we were strapped for time.
Hurriedly, I dressed my son Logan, then five, in his school uniform and started preparing his breakfast.
It was 22 May last year and Monday mornings were always a nightmare for us.
With my partner Sean, 28, already at work – having left the house at 7.30am – I had to get us both organised.
‘Make sure you put jam on my crumpets Mummy,’ Logan called from the living room.
Luckily, Logan was easy to please. A couple of crumpets with a slathering of fruity strawberry jam did the trick.
Only, as I waited for his
