About 11:30 last night there was a frantic knocking on my bedroom door, accompanied by my son calling me urgently.
I panicked. I assumed the worst. It's what you do, frankly.
I called him straight in, fearing what was going to come next.
“Have you got a spare notepad”.
He was in the middle of doing something, needed to make some notes, and his notepad was full.
All was good, but the shock still stopped me sleeping for most of last night.
That is what it's like, being on edge the whole time, waiting for a disaster because you know that no matter how well things are going right now there is one coming up sooner or later.
It didn't happen last night, but I know it will.