My DP thinks its perfectly acceptable to walk around in his pants (just his pants) at my parents house, opening the door here, speaking to the neighbours ...
I have painted the children's faces, done painting/nagging with them, tidied DP wardrobe, washed me, my hair, de-fuzzed (including grooming lady garden) done the washing. Haven't read the paper (they delivered The Star instead of the News of the World - I mean, I like the quality press on a Sunday!) er, I mean, I am going to read the Observer after lunch!
Now I can't breath, my bump is sore, am completely knackered and grumpy. It just isn't worth it.