This is one of those diary entries I dread, dear reader. We've been through a lot together,dark times, funny days and the joys and grind of family life.
Well, if not exactly back to Square One, if this was a game of snakes and ladders I'd have landed on a particularly slippery serpent and ended up several moves back.
In the last entry I revealed how son Matt had done nothing in six weeks to find a new job and was starting to spend more time with the similarly unemployed skunk gang from the past.
How did I know this? It was easy to tell because of the names I most overheard when his mobile went off in Madmum'sCottage.
He was definitely spiralling back downwards and the last pay from his job was clearly running out.
What I now know is that some idiot banks and finance companies were providing him with credit cards - and he jacked them up to the ridiculous spending limits they gave him.
But that's jumping ahead.
On Saturday, while Madmum was still in bed, he appeared in my room and rudely demanded money. Not much, but I wasn't going to hand it over. He went downstairs and turned the TV on to 100 volume, or whatever is the number for shaking 20 homes in any direction. I dressed, gathered up my stuff and decided, undercover of the noise, that it would be a good idea to get out. Quick.
As I slipped through the front door he sprang out and grabbed me from behind, round the neck, with the intention of dragging me back inside.
For the first time ever, Madmum simply screamed at full blast. I even beat the telly. This was such a shock for Matt that he actually let go and I stumbled out, uninjured but with one shoe on, one shoe off, to the shock of passers-by.
There's a police station very close and, although no officers were present, two old neighbourhood watch gents were there and immediately called control.
By the time police arrived, Matt was gone and the telly was off.
The joy of mobiles - the officers eventually got hold of Matt. He told them he was on his way to Manchester and agreed to attend a full-time police station for interview on his return.
He's now on police bail and not allowed to come to Madmum's Cottage. So we have some breathing space. In all honesty, I can't see him being charged. I can't even see how I can keep him out the house once the bail ends on Friday.
The only contact we've had is his claim that he's living on a park bench and could I deliver some bandages as he'd been in a fight.
No chance.
