I think you should know that it is nine o'clock at night and I am still in my nightie. Yes. The one I put on when I fell out of bed dazed and confused with a stinking cold this morning. My hedonistic tendencies are getting out of hand...
But snuffly nose or no snuffly nose I can't remember a Sunday quite as blissful as this one in a very long time. Hot buttered crumpets, piles of sunday papers, bare feet , eucalytpus scented hankies, and an escape from the sound of my own voice as yet again I have been rendered silent by the joy that is my pre-christmas sniffle. I am irrationally happy!
Isn't it strange how our bodies call time on hectic seasonal disorder, men as daft as rags and three year olds given to declaring that you, you silly mummy are "ruining my life..."?
Time out grubby girl!