2. Do wishes come true? [Egerton Road South, Chorlton]

So there I am, wheeling Milo through Chorlton with the kind of grim determination that only sleep deprivation can bring (‘you will have your nap, goddammit, you will have your nap…’), when I happen to pass a house with a wishing tree. I mutter under my breath something about wishing I had a baby that slept, and then trundled on, hoping that none of those frighteningly capable-looking Chorlton mummies had heard me. Later that night, when Little M had woken for the fourth time, I wondered if perhaps I should have hung my wish upon the tree, as per the instructions (below), as I clearly wasn’t anywhere near getting a good night’s sleep.