Dan Morris: Ready to battle the itchiest of itches

Recently, the little 'un's cousin has fallen foul of the fabled itchy annoyance that has long been considered something of a childhood rite of passage. With it going around a bit, me and her mum have been on guard, and though she's avoided it so far, it's really only a matter of time.

I was five years old when the tell-tale spots finally came to claim me – hugged by a sweet, infected girl while out playing on my bicycle. It wasn't long before the pox manifested itself, and my unblemished visage was unblemished no more. I remember my mum bathing me vigorously with camomile lotion and all other manner of potions designed to calm the irritation. They did little to soothe it, sadly, and for at least a very long week I was plagued by the insatiable disease that was also to be the scourge of my social life.

Naturally, most other parents wanted me nowhere near their kids, and as such I was forced to make my own fun until the pox passed.

Being an only child, I'd had a lot of experience with this. Yet since starting school only a few short months before, I'd developed a taste for having a crowd of other children around me, and being ripped from the comforting bosom of many other little pals within arm's reach was tough.

Back to the Lego it was for lil' Danny Boy, which incidentally made a great scratching tool. Returning to school, I discovered that many of my classmates had since been infected, and consequently I was forced to spend another fortnight or so minus many of my favourite chums. Suffice to say that when we were all finally united, it was better than Christmas. But I'll never forget that time as one of the cruelest and loneliest in my life. With this, I am lucky, and I know it. Plenty of people experience true and horrific loneliness during adulthood, and I find the notion of this the most upsetting thing in the world. Yet when a five-year-old is stripped of their friends for the best part of a month, their world as they know it ends. And back then there was no FaceTime, and the only Zoom was a type of ice lolly.

My little princess is only one, and I've often thought that it'd be better for her to get Chicken Pox sooner rather than later, reducing the chance that she'll even remember it. But recalling the heartbreak of being on my Jack Jones while enduring the itchiest of itches in the history of itchiness, on her behalf I'm not looking forward to the day it comes knocking for her.

Generally speaking, being a kid is great. It's true what they say; you never know how good you've got it 'til it's gone. There are days when I'd happily sell my soul for a chance to live one week as a five-year-old again, with the greatest decisions in front of me being whether to dress up as either Captain Scarlett, Hook, or Planet, and what colour wax crayon would best enhance my mother's Laura Ashley wallpaper.

Yet for all the joy of being child, there are some undeniably rubbish bits too – Chicken Pox topping the list, along with losing teeth, and injections. The little 'un recently had a round of the latter, and, fair play, she took 'em like a trooper. No limb was spared from the nurse's needle, but I was certainly more of a nervous mess than she was. However, this was just the latest proof of the fact that my daughter will perpetually teach me more than I will teach her. "Toughen up, Dad," I could see her big eyes shouting. "You didn't have a problem with needles when you were covering your arms in tattoos!" She makes a very good point. But, then again, was I just putting on a brave face to keep my legendary hard-man image intact? 'Ha', and indeed, 'ha'.

I've never been much of a tough guy (more of a Russell Grant than a Grant Mitchell), and I'm sure the lion cub's roar will soon eclipse mine.

Chicken Pox? On reflection, I feel sorry for it. When my little Amazon warrior gets her laughing tackle around it, it'll want to run for the hills.

It really is great being a kid, and something tells me it's going to take a lot more than the itchiest of itches to make a dent in this one's armour.