Why is it that mums think that Facebook mummy groups are full of qualified paediatricians?

‘What do you think this rash is – I’m wourried,’ ‘My DS has been shitting Skittles since lunchtime,’ ‘LO has two small spherical growths under his willy’ and so on …

While there will be plenty of mummies who talk a good game on there, they are about as qualified to give out urgent medical advice as a Magic 8 Ball.

You may think that substituting 111 or a visit to an out of hours centre with the often incoherent ramblings of semi-literate Take A Break readers may seem like a good idea at the time, but the likelihood is that you will end up with 150 different diagnoses of a simple rash – everything from ‘egsma’ to ‘I’d Neva vaccinate my kids theres no science proof.’

I’ve lost count of the number of incredibly long and deep gashes I have seen, along with the caption ‘Do you think I shud take him to A&E?’

Of course you fucking should. Your kid’s head looks like a special effect from Saving Private Ryan for fucks sake. Medical science has come on leaps and bounds in recent years and they will have just the thing for that down your local hospital.

As a Brucie Bonus, you can bet your bottom dollar that someone will chirp up about long waiting times putting them off a trip to the hospital. Maybe even because foreigners.

To be honest, it’s only a matter of time before the NHS and Facebook come together to launch a service where mummies who have been admin of a certain Facebook group for more than three years are automatically given an honorary pharmaceutical degree that allows them to issue prescriptions online.

Jeremy Hunt is talking this one over right now with his junior ministers – GP waiting times will drop like a stone.

‘Yeh hun it looks like a rash, or he might have got a bit messy with the raspberries at lunchtime. Here’s a script for some amoxycillin to be on the safe side, as you can neva be too careful when it is your own kids, rite?’