Camp visit, with Murdochs thrown in

It's been a bit of a crazy week here, with broken down cars, stressful grant applications and various work crises on both sides conspiring to disrupt the usual, ahem, serene flow of life in the Nappy Valley household. And it was particularly chaotic on Tuesday, when both The Doctor and I were duty bound to attend a parents' visiting day at Littleboy 1's summer camp, on top of everything else that was going on.

Not only that, but I was desperate to watch the Murdochs and Rebekah Brooks being grilled by the Select Committee, taking place that very same morning (New York time). This has been one of those sagas that I would have loved to be at home for, dissecting the ins and outs and implications for journalism in a bar with my friends; most people I know out here have probably never even heard of the News of the World. Thank goodness for the internet and Twitter (which, finally, I am starting to see the point of).

The camp visit, of only an hour, had to be fitted in around everything else that was going on that day. Rupert Murdoch had just started speaking as we left, so we pitched up in the car listening to The Murdochs on the radio (perhaps they could turn it into a serial like The Archers?), reluctantly switching it off as we parked in a baseball field. "It's like going on a Cross Channel ferry," remarked The Doctor, as we were directed to park in a line of other cars, bumper to bumper, in marked out lanes.

It was an occasion run with military precision. Hundreds of parents were being marshalled towards camp, wielding video cameras and iPhones to capture the sporting acheivements of their little darlings on film. We had been given strict instructions to 'wear flat shoes, as you are visiting camp' - not a problem for me, as I live in flip flops during the summer months, but there were a few parents who clearly didn't get the memo and looked as if they were dressed for a Regency garden party.

During the next hour, while watching Littleboy 1 play basketball and hockey and swim (parents shouting out comments like 'Top Shelf, Buddy!" at their offspring) I managed the odd furtive look at Twitter to find out what was happening, Murdoch-wise. Sadly I missed custard-pie gate, but I have to say it was worth it to see Littleboy 1 shooting hoops, a big smile on his face whenever he turned around to see us, and swimming underwater like a fish.

And, although I felt a bit guilty at taking a moment to prise my eyes away from my firstborn and indeed my husband wielding foam hockey sticks, I wasn't quite as bad as one Dad, who was actually talking on his mobile as he played hockey during the Dads and Kids hockey game. I wonder if he works for News Corp.?......