When you need to say “thank you”.

In the middle of sleepless nights, when you’re crawling out of bed for the 7th, 8th, 9th and 10th time, and your mind is at its most dramatic and over reactive clear thinking, you realise that sometimes you don’t say thank you enough.

For the last four years they’ve always been there, they’ve stuck by you through the sleepless nights, the jabs, the chicken pox, the coughs.  Through the sticky and the messy, they’ve always been there.   Whether you need them or not, you know you can call out in your hour of need and 20 minutes of calm will ensue.

So today I want to dedicate this post as a thank you to a very important part of my life for  helping me keep my children alive.


That’s right, that sticky little bottle which has ruined entire carpets in my house, stuck in my hair, been pushed towards me with such anger by a hot and bothered poorly child that it’s flown through the air landing and then running down my cheek, Calpol has been there for me since the boys had their first jabs.

Calpol (or every now and then out of sheer desperation Sainsbury’s own brand version), is magic.

YES, like I’ve said above, it does cause that sinking feeling when a dribble lands on the carpet, and you know from now on you’re just going to have black little patches no matter how hard you scrub.  YES, I know I curse the pathetic CRAP spoon, which has no lip so when you pour that emergency spoonful in the middle of the night it comes out too fast and dribbles over the sides squelching between your toes.  YES, when it leaks in the vanity case it means everything is ruined – but I don’t care because it blinking well saves my children’s life.

When you’re sleep deprived, and for whatever reason you give your child a splodge of the old pink stuff on a spoon before they go to bed and then they sleep through you want to kiss the bottle, and I can’t deny it, I continued the trend in fear that Calpol was the only factor causing the little monkey to sleep.

When you’re just about to go into a presentation which you have been working night and day towards for three weeks and your phone rings.  Nursery’s number flashes up.  You KNOW that you’re going to be told that your child is “not themselves” and they’ve “got a bit of a temperature” (you may know this because they were the same at 8am however you dosed them up and sent them off with guilty desperation), you answer and beg, plead, sob at nursery to give them a spoonful of the handy sachets you always keep in their bag “if they’re not right in half an hour, call me back”.  You can nine times out of ten rely on pinky to save the day.

When it’s the middle of the night, and the child is out of bed EVERY CHUFFING HOUR, and you can’t work out why the hell this is happening to you before a busy day where you know you’ll have to be up at the crack of dawn.  You’ve checked the nappy – dry and clean.  You’ve checked for teeth – none seem to be coming, child seems to be dribble free.  Room isn’t too hot or too cold, music is at right volume level, PJ’s seem comfy, no sugar before bed, can’t be hungry.  That’s when you bring out the calpol.  Stumbling bleary eyed to a shelf in the room (it doesn’t matter what room you’re in there will always be a bottle and slightly sticky spoon handy), you can grab the pink stuff, and guarantee yourself at least two hours unbroken sleep.  If you’re mind calms down.

If a before school run game of web slinging gets a little out of control, and perhaps in a competitive moment which causes your child stumbles backwards and bang their head against the wall…don’t worry, some raisins and the promise of some “pink meddy” remedies the tears and you don’t need to worry about school being told that “mummy was being too rough again this morning” *dies*.

When their pillow is damp with sweat, their noses are running, their cheeks flushed and they are listless, you know you can bring them back to life with just one spoonful. Although you have to know when to administer though, too soon and you’ve blown your trump card (and perhaps a quiet half hour in front of Monsters Inc. with a cuppa), too late and you’re not sure you can hack the time for it to kick in.

Obviously I don’t abuse the use of Calpol, and only use it in emergencies *cough*.  But it’s nice to know it’s there when you need it.

So Calpol – THANK YOU – from the bottom of my heart.  And from my children.  To me, you are up there with the goodun’s working towards world peace, cures for disease, and those who invented  Bombay Sapphire.  I’m also appreicating your Cal-Cough range…keep up the good work, I can’t wait to see what you do next (please can it be something to stop tantrums).



  1. ClaireShaw

    We fight over licking the remnants of the calpol off the spoon/medicine syringe in our house…mummy usually wins…..its so bad that if my daughter finds a syringe (on the nightstand/floor/behind the toilet) she excitedly asks…”is this a used one?” before licking any old sticky (dusty) remnants off like she hasn’t been fed for a week….Shameful i know :-/

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.