darling hubby pitched a heavy night last night. Appeared at 3am, the worse for wear and barely coherent. I didn't want to come over like Mrs. Andy Capp, but gave him a hair dryer. No point really as he wasn't compos mentus.
4 hours later, time for upsiy daisy, and mr. Man is still, quite frankly pissed. Slurring words etc. never mind he totally stank. Standing there in his cycling gear, with the full intention of cycling through London! Pissed. As I tried to point this out to him, the mother of all tantrums kicks off. Ends up, me saying well you can stay elsewhere...and he runs up stairs to pack dd's suitcase and drive up north to daddy.
Eventually all calms down, and he is persuaded to take the train. How is this nagging. SHould I have let him go and be pizzaed across the Euston Road?