It is 6am. I am in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher, preparing breakfast for Imogen and her brother, making a packed lunch for myself, assembling the various piles of morning pills ingested around here for various conditions, and nibbling at my scone between jobs.
Imogen: Oh Mummy, I see what you're doing.
Me: Oh yeah, what's that?
Imogen: You're being Cinderella.
Me: Hmm, yeah, a little bit I guess.
Imogen: Don't worry Mum, the mice will show up soon to help you.
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