My boys are sulking.
Sulking big time.
We have no snow and despite the forecast, no snow has materialised.
I stupidly promised to take them sledging as a treat and now I am being held personally responsible for the fact that no sledging is forthcoming.
"But you promised!" They wail.
"You promised there'd be snow this weekend!"
It is my fault that the weather forecasters have so far got it wrong and my part of Suffolk has just 2 centimetres of powdery white stuff that barely covers the grass and is no good for snowball fights and utterly useless for making snow men.
I try to see the positives in the situation. Obviously my children still see me as a god, an omnipotent being able to arrange the heaven and earth at a whim. Problem is it's not my whim, it's theirs and I find that I am getting the blame more often than not...
So I am shifting the blame and moving it to the weather man for not getting it right. I raise my hands and admit finally that I am not the be all and end all of life, it's a bitter pill to swallow for them and me but it may mean that I am not to blame at least for the lack of snow this week!