Guilty as sin...

I had to stop at the local Co-op on the way to Binland this morning to buy some guilt food for the husband (more of this later). The store is on a busy, narrow road, and getting back to my car with my purchases, I had to press myself up against the car to avoid getting wiped out by a White Van Man (who, by the way, should have been wherever he was going by then as it was 8.15am).  

As my tummy squished against my drivers door and I squeezed my buttocks to make myself even narrower, I decided that turning to face the car was probably immaterial at the moment.  It's likely that taking my current 'six months' pregnant' stomach and my ample behind (with or without buttock clenching) into consideration, I might have been less vulnerable had I faced him head on.

Mind you, this didn't take into consideration the husband's 'guilt food' I was talking about.

For the second weekend running, I won't be at home, and shall be leaving the husband and the dogs to fend for themselves. The dogs hate it when I go away, choosing to give me that look which implies that forgiveness will never be on offer again.  The husband on the other hand secretly enjoys it when I go away.  I think he just wanders round the house all weekend in his pyjamas, not bothering to make the bed or clear anything up until about an hour before my assumed return time.  One of these days, I shall catch him out and come home early.  What a hoot that would be.

But having been away last week, I do feel the tiniest bit guilty at abandoning him to takeaways for the weekend, so I had bought him some goodies to tide him over while I was gone.  His stash included some slow cooked belly pork, beer, hot cross buns and three bags of Haribo Starmix.

I on the other hand will be fine dining with daughter number two having had a lovely facial earlier in the day.

There won't be a Haribo in sight...