Don't ask me no questions...

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The virtual lockdown quiz night has a lot to answer for...

Last night's theme was the colour orange, so the husband and I didn't really have to put too much thought into what we would be wearing. At 7.30pm, we donned a couple of his hi-viz orange work t-shirts, and spent the next three hours looking like a pair of road workers on the side of the M4.

One bottle of wine later, this image became more relevant as I woke up this morning feeling like I'd been run over. Why do we never learn...

Jolly Sock Man's father is Team Leader of the quiz nights, and as we finished last night, the shout came up for next week's quiz masters.  'We are not doing it again', muttered the husband in his best corner of the mouth voice.  'Don't offer, whatever you do'.  Well, like I said, a fine bottle of Rioja had received quite a battering from yours truly, so the husband shouldn't have been too surprised when I said, 'We'll do it'.  This was the cue for some serious eye rolling and forehead slapping (his, not mine and all out of camera view to the other participants) and this morning, he is still questioning my sanity.  Just what I need when I have a hangover is the husband pecking my head.

'So what's the theme going to be?' asked Jolly Sock Man's father.

I thought about it for about two seconds.  'Musical theatre', I said.  'I want you all to channel your inner Judy Garlands and Alfie Boes for next week'.  I also vaguely remember touching on The Rocky Horror Show and implying that the husband might be decked out like a Liverpudlian drag queen next week.  This is as likely to happen as Mr Trump choosing the next wallpaper in the White House, but I have other costumes I can shoehorn him into which will afford some dignity.

So today, in my fragile state, I am getting the questions together.  Overnight, in my befuddled sleep, I had some great ideas as to the questions I am going to do, and I'm attempting to be really professional with screen sharing and a picture round (this could go terribly wrong, so as a back up, I am training the husband to copy a famous song and dance routine, and see how long it takes for someone to guess what it is and put him out of his misery.

For his sake, and that of the other teams, his children, work colleagues and friends, let's hope that the technical stuff doesn't prove too hard.

The husband will never be able to set foot outside of the house again...



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