I found an Internet Pee-stick of Over-Sensitive Doom that hadn’t expired this morning. Again, I was up at seven because my bladder had woken up and wanted walkies (harrumph). Having duly anointed said stick, I sat in the living room watching the light of the sunrise on the white birch trees outside, trying to think deep and poetical thoughts. At 8:30 I thought the hell with it, and went and woke H up. H loves being woken up by a twitching wife holding a urine-soaked bit of plastic under his nose.
Can you see that? How about now?
H put his arms around me, and said, kindly but sternly, ‘and now you must relax.’
I said, ‘you must be fucking kidding me.’ And then I laughed quite loudly in a slightly worrying way. So H stroked my hair and then made me a cup of tea, because he is beautifully trained, like all the best butlers.
This will either make or break Christmas forever.
(Yes, yes, I am taking the aspirin. I have been for a couple of days now. You can all relax about the aspirin).