So as all Mothers know, there is not a lot we will not do for our children.

This weekend for me that turned out to be a day at Chessington followed by a day at Disney on Ice.

Now for those of you who know me, you also know that is my idea of unadulterated hell.

Chessington came about because my friend offered me a cheap way in via a Tesco voucher – this should have been my warning beacon. A Waitrose voucher maybe, but a Tesco voucher, I mean, what have I become!?

It was pouring with rain, torrential, storm like, unrelenting and the voucher did not even work …so, 80 pounds lighter (money, not weight, sadly), we sloshed into the park.

We sat in puddles on the rides, we suffered the pain of pounding rain against our faces on the roller coasters and we screamed with terror on the Vampire ride (which I was convinced Betsey was going to slip out of).

But did we have fun?

My daughter of course loved it, but I just found myself being British: Seeing it out because I felt I had to, because I had paid, and because that is what we do.

When we left we were wet through and chilled to the bone – and the best part of the day was getting home for that big warm mug of tea.

So would I do it again?

Yes, probably, but purely so I could spend the next week moaning about it in a self satisfied kind of way and telling everyone I went to Chessington in the pouring rain and I survived it.

Maybe next time though we will have a mummy/daughter pedi…