It looked like a blister, which immediately raised my concern, and my thoughts were confirmed when my daughter said: "Don't worry mummy, I had some spots like that earlier but I just scratched them off".

A quick look at her chest and sure enough, there were two red scratches looking suspiciously like chicken pox.

When she woke the next morning she was covered from head to toe and a visit to the doctor was in order.

I must say that the very mention of the words chicken pox got us straight to the front of the queue and we were in and out within seconds, rather than the mammoth wait we normally have when we're in there.

So now my daughter is confined to the house and covered with lotion. It still smells exactly the same as I remember, but trying to get it on her is a real nightmare, with the cotton wool soaking up more than it puts on.

The biggest problem is the itchy feeling which is driving my daughter crazy.

Because I've told her not to scratch the spots, she is trying to find other ways of itching without actually coming into contact with them herself.

She's blowing on them, spinning herself around to cool herself off and has even been spotted rubbing her back against the wall, just like a little bear.

But in all I have to say she is being extremely brave so far and it hasn't put her off her stride at all.

I was hoping for a quiet time, cuddled up in front of the television, but instead I've been blowing bubbles while she runs around madly popping them; playing snakes and ladders like it's going out of fashion; and having lots of drawing and dancing competitions.

Every time I sit down for a rest, a little spotty grin greets me, and demands that I get back up to play.

When I ask her if she shouldn't be taking it easy for the next few days, she just shrugs her shoulders. "Nah," she says. "You know me, I never let anything get me down. I just keep going and going".
Just like the Duracel bunny, it would seem – only spottier.