A story in the newspapers earlier this week said it all: a little girl had written a note from "the school company" trying to convince her mum that she had another week off school.
Perhaps she felt compelled to do it because - gulp - the thought of going back to school after such a lovely break seemed too much to bear...
I know the feeling: we all do, right? It hit me half way through watching War And Peace on BBC 1 on Sunday night that the next morning I'd have to be up and dressed and out the door while it was pretty much still dark.
And of course my 4-year-old was probably feeling the same way, having had 3 long and lovely present-filled weeks off.
I got Bodhi Rae in her uniform and on her scooter easily enough but when it came to saying goodbye at morning club the tide most definitely turned.
I had a feeling it would - especially when I saw the line of blotchy red faces in the breakfast queue.
I went to say my usual goodbye, with a kiss and a hug, and got chased out the door by my daughter shouting: "Huggy mummy, huggy!"
But a "huggy" turned into about 5 until I caught the eye of the breakfast club leader who could see my desperation, and distracted my little one by asking her to go help her make the toast.
With that I made a bolt for the door before she could follow me. Harsh I know, but when there's work waiting for you, sometimes needs must.
And a lesson I've learnt since Bodhi Rae's been in nursery is that sometimes the best goodbye is one big squeeze and kiss followed by a lightening speed dash for the exit.
After which I usually want to cry a bit myself, and long for another huggy...