Get in the doghouse

The party of five is whole again, the wanderers have indeed returned.  Thing Two came first, in full sulky mode and later The Husband arrived with a full of beans Thing One, The Husband however was not so full of beans, more full of hangover shall we say and has bleated incessantly ever since about how totally poorly he is.  Being the mean wife that I am, I declared I have absolutely no sympathy for self induced over indulgence whilst becoming increasingly cross that not only did he get a whole night out, he didn't start his day until 11.40am, didn't arrive home with Thing One until gone 4pm and yet has the sheer audacity to assume he has the right to whine and wax lyrical about how awfully ill he feels whilst immediately doing his usual of dozing on the sofa, poor poor baby, it must be so awfully difficult having a life.  To say my very limited store of patience waned would perhaps be a slight understatement.  By the time he carted himself off to bed for an hour or two after Tea my patience upped and left.  However I will keep my fishwifery contained until tomorrow and unleash it should he dare deny me a soak in the bath and a nap.

Before Tea I kindly left him alone with all three of the blighters darlings whilst I disappeared into the kitchen to bake, which is less likely to get me arrested (especially when The Husband deemed himself far too poorly to do the pots so I purposefully improvised rather then wash any myself, a girl has to have principles!) then other activities that ran through my mind and whipped up a batch of the rather delicious Nigella Cola Cupcakes.  It was only after I devoured two of them that I realised they have approximately 320 calories each.  Oops.

Tea was quick and simple frankfurters yet to try and impress The Toddler I decided to make him a plate of 'Hairy Hot Dogs' Unfortunately he was far from impressed and with absolute horror he pointed at them, simply appalled, tilted his head with eyes narrowing in accusation and demanded 'wha wat?!' followed by an 'Urghhhhhhh' So that would be another fail then. His expression was an amusing cross between 'WTF?!' and complete and utter disdain.  No worries he soon pinched some of The Husbands hotdogs.

Thing One and Thing Two are tryinng to bring down the ceiling bouncing upstairs to test Thing Two's therdometer which when I questioned Thing One as to whether he meant his sister had a thermometer or a pedometer turned out to be the latter.

Nearly bedtime (& thank fuck for that) I shall enjoy waking The Husband, possibly with a cold flannel.