DH has had his annual weekend away.
He has returned from a bike rally in North Wales. The basis of the weekend is to ride on your bike, in the cold wind and rain, for hours, pitch a tent in a field, get very drunk then collapse preferably in the tent. Pack up and ride home.
Its the same every year and every year when he has come home he has told the same stories, up to now I have had 3 hrs of endless rally babble, seen all the photos, looked at his hat and his badge. I have even had to give the manky stinky git a kiss, yuck yuck.
Is this going above and beyond the call of duty of a wife? and how the hell do I get him to shut up?