At some point mid-week 30% asked if she had told me that the Oranges & Lemons clan were here for lunch on Saturday ...
Now this may come as a bit of a surprise, as I am something of a planner, but, in my world, calendars are something that happen to other people. For most of the time I barely know what day of the week it is and, as for the date, thank heavens for that little pop up in the lower. right hand corner of my laptop's screen.
... I confirmed my ignorance and carried on with the remainder of my working week.
This morning I was tasked with tidying the house and garden in preparation for the arrival of our visitors. I had had sufficient foresight that I had got the lawn mowed a couple of days ago, so the morning was spent picking up family detritus and putting it away.
When TP wandered downstairs and wandered in to the kitchen I fixed him with a baleful stare and threatened dreadful ills if he messed up either of the two rooms I had just tidied.
30% arrive back from her shopping trip and we were soon prepared for our visitors. We even had time for a quick chat with Moneypenny, who is hoping to move house in a couple of week's time.
We had a lovely lunch with the O & L clan and we had so much to chat about that it was getting close to seven o'clock before children were dragged away from TP's Playstation and bundled in to the car.
The evening was spent relaxing in front of the television, where one of the discussions was whether a Brexit vote would guarantee that I, and the rest of the country, would never have to participate in, or watch, the Eurovision Song Contest.
Do not, I repeat, DO NOT get me fucking started on what a complete pile of televisual shite that is! Fortunately there was an X-Men film on instead.