Another Bank Holiday weekend, another opportunity to spend whole days trawling through boxes of paperwork, kids’ artworks and clothes you now hate (but can’t quite bear to part with).

Who needs a long weekend away when you could be up to your eyes in all of that, eh?

On the bright side, we’ve sent a carload to the tip, filled a few charity shop boxes and can confirm that our dog’s birthday is definitely December 10.

We’ve unearthed a few interesting finds while sorting through boxes of paperwork, including a handful of wedding invitations so old that two of the couples are now divorced. I’m a bit ridiculous with things like this, but even I had to agree that if the invitation had lasted longer than the marriage then it may be time to bin it.

Getting rid of kid clutter is a bigger wrench. I ease the burden of sentimentality by sending a lot of the things my kids have outgrown my sister’s way, but sadly she has no need for the wooden walker all three of my kids used. Sob.

A source of a different kind of kid-focused emotion comes when they want to get involved in the decluttering process. As any parent can confirm, this is never, ever a good thing. We made the mistake of stacking up the charity boxes in plain sight, leading one of them to spy a prized dinosaur toy she’s ignored for years.

Not happy, she returned it to her bedroom. Soon afterwards, her dad returned it to the charity box. And – repeat. Needless to say it’s back in her room, now in pride of place on her bed because she loves it very, very much and always has...

The same child was devastated when I tried to take a bundle of bubble wrap from her room. Real tears were shed over this pile of plastic “I was going to make some little houses out of it!” she wailed.

What? When?? Why??? She reluctantly agreed to let that one go, but it turns out I couldn’t. It’ll be useful for the packing when and if we do ever move house. It seems we’re all as bad as each other.