Another day and another visit to the doctor's surgery. This time it was the boy. He had to go and see the ear specialist. She was charged with checking whether all those ear infections of his youth had impaired his hearing.
The infections had certainly impaired my health. Countless nights over the past two years spent lying on cushions on the floor while he had to be cajoled to sleep with a combination of stories on the sofa or cartoons.
The doctor showed him an array of gadgets and stuck things in his ears. The bet bit was when she said he should only press a red button when he heard a sound.
He kept hearing sounds.
The thrill of the room catapulted him into a frenzy of excitement. And it's difficult to discern whether the doctor said he was fine just to get him out.
We paid and left and went for a coffee at a cafe which looked out onto the majesty of St Lazare church. The wobbly tables seemed to perpetuate his merriment.
I called it a day after that taking the train westwards towards the radio station as the boy and his mother headed back home.
I am relieved he is fine. I can now concentrate on the aching limbs from my yoga class.
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