Happy New Year!

We’re back from the brother in law’s following another of his now legendary parties. He’s an old soul boy you see, consequently my feet hurt because he alternates his own cd’s made up of all our favourites, with Heart’s continuous party music. Plus, he always has lovely snacks on offer too! The dogs (Nelly and Skye) weren’t too happy at being left out in the (sheltered) bit of garden by the back door (although they did have a huge patio heater to themselves) and everyone who passed through the kitchen stopped to make of a fuss of them.

Brad was off partying on his own, therefore I spent the night imagining that he’d lost his keys and slept out somewhere. So I made OH stop on the way home at the shop where Brad works, to check he made it in ok. I couldn‘t find him but the security guard assured me he did, although he was ‘tired’. And no doubt emotional too. I received a phone call a little while later for my troubles; I won’t tell you what he called me. But he can get his own tea. Why didn’t I phone him? Well, duh, he’s a teenager! He never replies to a text or answers the damn phone!

101 Uses for Party Poppers #57

Our old game, when the mother-in-law used to criss-cross decorations across the living room, consisted of us taking aim and popping the small poppers as far as we could over them, all from the comfort of our armchairs. With the advent of the huge spring loaded poppers, she very sensibly stopped criss-crossing anything. But boys will be boys (all aged over 40!) and they resorted to reloading the springs, firing chocolates across the room into each others mouths.

We’re hoping she doesn’t notice the smudge marks on the wall. And the ceiling. And the TV…