Just what the doctor ordered

Who's the Daddy? has been on holiday
Who's the Daddy? has been on holiday
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We have never needed a holiday like the one we just had.

Last month, the arm I’ve used to make a living for nearly 30 years got broken into about 15 pieces and is currently held together by intricate metalwork and 2ft of plaster - a right laugh in 30C Mallorcan sunshine.
Then two weeks later, one of our oldest and dearest friends in the whole world died, totally unexpectedly, and it flattened us.
It’s impossible to believe we’ll never see her again and we miss her so much it hurts.
Taking weeks and weeks off sick and then disappearing off on holiday for a fortnight felt like it would be taking the Mickey so, through a combination of planes, trains and automobiles, I was back at the best job I’ve ever had, with the finest bunch of people I’ve ever worked with, editing the letters page of a national newspaper with just the index finger of my wrong hand for a week and a half.
Believe me, it takes it out of you.
So it’s little wonder that, on our first night away in our rented villa with our extended family, yours truly slept for 13 hours straight. After about 11 hours, the boss’ twin sister suggested that she check on me to see if I was still breathing.
Multi-family holidays are such a good idea, especially when you’ve got your own villa, with its own pool and everyone’s got their own air-conditioned room. We tried a villa holiday for the first time last year on our own and while being far from the madding kids (let’s be honest, other people’s screeching little horrors are a pain in the ****) was liberating, after a few days it got, well, a bit boring.
This year there were 10 of us, so there was always someone to rub along with, and if you felt like crawling off on your own to read, sip Rioja and listen to your music for a few hours then there were plenty of sun-kissed, secluded balconies to do just that.
And added to all that, the reason for the whole shebang was the boss and her twin’s, er, landmark birthday. If you’re going to reach a certain age, you might as well toast it overlooking the deep blue Mediterranean from the comfort of your own villa.

Who's the Daddy? column written by FATHER TO TWO DAUGHTERS