Sometimes, when things are going ok and we are functioning well as a system, we forget that it doesn’t take much to make us wobble. Last night was a prime example. Yesterday started well, with S going to Nero and then later to Asda. I spent some time working on crochet Christmas presents in the afternoon. By early evening we were tired and thinking about an early night. We were ok, in as much as things ever are ok for us. And then, at about 8pm as we were thinking about a bedtime brew, our present and our past collided once again. If you cast your mind back a few months, this was what led to our daughter spending the first week of the summer holidays with himself and sent us into a tailspin from which A has not yet returned. We put the kettle on and called upstairs to our daughter to make sure all her school stuff was in her bag downstairs, and picked up the remote to turn the tv off. And there was a trailer for Louis Theroux’s latest Saville documentary, with some woman in complete denial that Jim’ll Fix It could ever have committed such crimes. We turned it off immediately but the damage was already done – we’ve seen that denial so many times before from people we knew. And then our daughter came downstairs and announced she didn’t feel well – no big deal on its own but too much when we were already reeling from what we had just, albeit briefly, seen. We left everything – the kettle still boiling, the cat waiting for his bedtime treats – and went to bed, telling our daughter to do the same. Earphones in, duvet over our head, curled in a ball, wave sounds on, blocking out the world both now and then. Our daughter was, and is, fine. The Saville documentary has aired so there will be no more trailers. Today we can pick up the pieces, carry on – those presents won’t make themselves – and our daughter is with himself tonight which was fortunately prearranged. All we need is for things to stop coinciding – we can deal with triggers, we can look after our daughter. Just not simultaneously, please.