Yesterday was a day of recovery. Daughter number one, son number two and ELL had ever so thoughtfully decided not to come home for anything (including the obligatory Sunday roast), such was their understanding as to the state of the husband after Saturday night's frivolities at a lovely friend's.
What I was more surprised at was the state of my hangover yesterday morning, ie, non-existent. Mr and Mrs H who hosted the dinner on Saturday night are renowned for two things. Firstly, the food is always excellent as Mrs H is a superb cook. She lived up to her reputation with three different curries and a chocolate pud to die for. It's Mr H who I have to watch out for whenever we are in the same room. Every time we are somewhere together, he manages to sit next to me, and he is very over-attentive with the bottle if you know what I mean. I have left previous dinner parties on all fours, taking several days to surface, but as I no longer drink as much or as often (these two go hand in hand - one bottle of beer and I'm finished) I tend to be a little more cautious.
Mr H was a little under the weather on Saturday (man-flu apparently) but still plonked himself down in his customary place next to me at the dinner table. This was the start of two and a half hours of open warfare as to the levels of my wine glass. I eventually managed to walk away at the end of the evening having got away with four large glasses of Prosecco (each with a healthy dash of orange liqueur in it).
The husband on the other hand, didn't fare so well, managing not only four of the Prosecco cocktails but also several glasses of rather tasty red wine. This might explain why I had managed to do all the washing and ironing, renew my car insurance, tidy my office and son number two's bedroom (always a joy) and empty the dishwasher before he surfaced.
Leaving him to slowly pull himself together, I did a Tesco shop, and was home in record time. I then hauled him into town to walk around the Christmas Shopping Event. All he was interested in was coffee and bacon, and once I had got some of that into him, he stopped complaining about his headache. Thinking he would now be more charitable in my wish to look at the stalls, I slowed down to look at some jewellery. He however didn't and kept walking at top speed, dragging me with him back to the car.
It was then time for me to catch up on the episodes of Breaking Bad which he had secretly watched after I'd gone to bed.
Seven episodes I had to watch. Seven episodes....