Yesterday was Mother's Day. As you all know, it was also the first morning of what is laughingly known as British Summer Time in this country. This meant that I was up at 7.00am (really 6.00am), with everyone else in the house waking up at 10.00am (really 9.00). Taking a peek out of the window, the weather was looking gorgeous, but as we all know, looks can be deceiving where our weather is concerned and a stout vest was necessary.
So, going back to Mother's Day. My 9.00/10.00, I had done all the ironing, unloaded the dishwasher (I hate that job more than Marmite) and was standing in a long queue in the Co-op waiting to pay for a chicken and some dog treats. (Memo to self - do not get these mixed up in the packed lunches this morning). There was a little old lady (came up to my shoulder and older than me, so an accurate description) and she had one of those baskets on wheels which the smaller supermarkets tend to like. It was full to the brim of biscuits. She caught my eye as I was staring at the packet upon packet of Hob-Nobs. 'I like biscuits, and they were two for the price of one today', she said, stating the obvious.
Well, I thought to myself. It's just as well you are buying them because you like them, because they have no other purpose in life other than dunking. God knows how long it will take her to work her way through them all. I anticipate a shortage of teabags in this Co-op over the next few months. I had to leave the queue at this point, and re-join it with an extra box of tea bags...well, you can't be too careful.
So Mother's Day was celebrated with the usual family felons with the added joy of Mrs B who had traveled all the way from the seaside to celebrate. The husband was driving, and very early on in the brunch (before we even got there to be honest) I had decided that I was going to have a few drinks, as there was nothing which I would be expected to do for the rest of the day, what with it being MY DAY.
This might explain why I spent the rest of the afternoon stretched out on the sofa with a miniature schnauzer as a foot muff, snoring my head off like a water buffalo with sinus trouble. It also explains the headache and the very early night (hour notwithstanding).
Prosecco, you are not nice to me sometimes...