Something miraculous happened this morning and I still can't quite believe it. I HAD A LIE-IN. Not your average kids-sleeping-til-seven-for-a-change type of lie-in but a proper number, the kind of which I have not had in eight years. Are you ready for this - I eventually got out of my bed at 11.20am. Can I just say that again please? 11.20am !!!! LA LA LAaaaaa let's sing it from the rooftops.
You see we had friends over last night and I drank quite a lot of gin & tonic. Which doesn't seem too drastic except I am just under five foot two and seven doubles is slightly more than my petite frame can take. I remember the first two glasses but it's all a blur after that. Hey but I was a GOOD DRUNK and probably flirting and being very hilarious, even if The Husband doesn't think so. I also managed to do absolutely nothing apart from drink and eat. The Husband, bless him, cooked and served and washed up while I sat an arm's length from the kitchen appliances. But, hey, I was the entertainment for the evening.
We ended up having a great night with our friends but a dreadful night with the children. The Tweenager has been complaining about feeling sick yet not sick enough that he can't have Cornettos and Wine Gums. The Toddler is very hot and bothered with a dribbly nose. The Tomboy is having nightmares because she is addicted to the pages of her Children's Bible with pictures of Jesus on the cross. So sleep is not an option.
What happened during the night was what can only be described as a game of Musical Beds. Nobody finished the night in the bed where they started. I ended up top-to-toe with The Tweenager.
This morning I did the usual routine of Toddler milk and Dog Breakfast but then somehow The Husband took over and I went back to bed. Until 11.20am! The Husband and the kids were out walking the dog so even got to shower, eat toast and drink coffee in peace (albeit with a raging hangover).
So far I can't see any repercussions. The Husband hasn't mentioned it all day. So he must be plotting. He's either after special love or six months coming home late from work. Or a boys weekend. But I don't care, I will be living off the back of my super lie-in for the next eight years.