Sure, I shouldn’t do it for them – and I don’t – however, the time it takes to help them prepare, to answer their questions and to make sure they are getting their work for home done, is the time it could have taken me to write a short novel.

I’ve texted my long-time buddy on many occasions, hoping she remembers the Pythagoras theorem, or the definition of a surd. I’ve called my chiropractor sister and my personal trainer/massage therapist best friend, getting her tips on the quickest way to remember the 640 skeletal muscles in a human body.

I’ve spent hours and hours on google, researching, among other things, why Picasso painted such warped faces of weeping women.

I would argue the vast majority of mums and dads have also spent more time than they care to admit, or remember, helping out with homework. I used to think it was my nerdy, obsessive personality that saw me making sure my children never get to school without their work completed. But now I know I’m not alone.

For a chat among mums on a recent basketball trip weekend showed me that most of us are the same. We are slaves to our kid’s teachers – even the ones who are teachers themselves. ‘’I made a pact with myself this year,’’ one mum, who also happens to be a high school teacher, said. ‘’I’m not going to do any of my kids’ assignments this term ... one has four due Monday and he hasn’t touched them, but I promised myself.’’

Another mum, also a high school teacher, piped in: ‘’Hmmmmm well I’ve brought one with me this weekend. I was going to tackle it later in the hotel room, with a glass of wine. It’s due Monday too.’’

Enough said.