Thursday night, DH says to me 'oh, I've got nothing to wear for the office Christmas party tomorrow, can you go and get me something? I need shirt, trousers, shoes.'
I actually have a full day already planned, tried to explain this, vis:
DD gets up at 7.30amish, we have a leisurely brekkie, bath, get dressed, tends to take us til about 9am to get organised.
At 9.45am we go to the PILs to drop off birthday and Christmas presents, as it's the only chance we'll have to see them before New year and DD adores her granny/grandad so I don't see why she should miss out for the sake of DH's shopping requirements.
11.45am is Tumbletots, it's the last class before Christmas, DD loves it, similarly I don't want her to miss out.
This would give us between 1pm and 2pm for lunch, as I had already agreed with DD's best friend's mum that we would have a play date in the afternoon - she lives a 20min drive away (in good traffic).
I had also apparently agreed (although I have no real recollection of this other than the precedent of having done it last year) to give DH a lift to his Christmas do, so needed to be home by 5.30pm in order to feed DD before setting off out again. As the A13 at this time of the year is hell on wheels, I knew I would need to leave hers at 4.45 at the latest.
So... Friday 8.30am finds me in the local Tesco megabarn, dragging an unbathed, hastily-dressed and breakfasted DD around Florence and Fred to buy DH's sodding outfit.
I get stuck in traffic on the A13 and arrive home at 6pm to be greeted with 'ooh, this shirt and trousers are really thick, I'm going to be really hot'
I drive DH to the office do, picking up work colleague en-route, to find that he only has the vaguest idea of where she lives and keeps telling me 'you shouldn't have gone down that road' after the event
He tells me he won't be late home because he's feeling sooooo ill (to be fair, he had raging flu last week and is still suffering a bit).
He comes in at 2am and wakes DD up in the process, but I have to go and see to her because he has fallen across the bed and is snoring...
And so to Saturday morning. My one lie-in day of the week. Foolishly, I know, I had anticipated that as he would be home at 'no later than 10' , that I would be getting my lie-in. Instead I get woken at 7.30am by DD and when we go in to see Daddy (he was still sleeping in the spare room because of the flu), I get the wounded martyr 'oh, but it was my party last night, can't I sleep in' routine....
And he wonders why I'm slightly miffed with him? (he did realise he was being an arse and got up, but very huffily, like I'm in the wrong...grrr...)
If you've stuck with it this far, thank you for letting me unload! Now, off to the Frost Fair...