L’s young man, The Statistician, arrived this afternoon – just in time not to be treated to the full expletory range of my opinions about The Trainline, which has compelled me download an app on my phone in order to access some tickets I’ve bought. Luckily G arrived bearing chocolates, which took my mood from Apoplectic back to Hardly Dangerous At All.
I then threw dinner together in a manner which would have been more organised if I’d downed less fizz during the preparation; I thought I was serving it crazily early, but we’ve only just left the table after three hours of competitive eating and talking. I can only hope that everyone else enjoyed this as much as I did.
I’m still in the dog house with Child One about yesterday’s photos (“You have to STOP photographing me with a good camera. Try exporting it at 320 pixels down the long side – that’ll probably be OK.”), so I grabbed a couple of table shots for this post in a hiatus between courses. We’ve since eaten the cheese as well.
I think the rest of the household is now lying in a semi-stupefied state in front of the Quiz of the Year – and I’m away to join them.