Oh my poor every extending waist line! So much for this diet lark, I'll have to start all over again soon at this rate.
Last night we went round to visit some friends who were planning on having a BBQ on their newly laid patio / sun deck, but this summer being the summer it has been it became a jacobs joint instead. So, in time honoured Lancashire tradition we all turned up with a ton of scran and a cart load of booze (apart from me, who brought 4 liters of diet coke instead as I was driving. Boo!) and hung about in the back yard (smokers smoking), kitchen (ladies gossiping), dining room (general hovering of punters) and in between showers, the patio (well, it seemed a shame to waist all the hard work).
As we arrived we saw the host and baby tottering off down the road, away from the house and party guests, so we pulled over to see what was up. Turns out the nipper had woken up wheezing and coughing and has panicked the parents. As they live a spit and a stride from A&E Daddy was off to check him out. He had been a very poorly baby in his first few weeks so this seems perfectly understandable. Aside from the fact the wee feller was grinning at us out of his pram stuffing a pork pie into his smiling little mouth. Typical kid! And yes, he was (thankfully) fine!
The night was loads of fun though, with every one asking us "So, how's married life treating you then?" and regaling us with wedding stories we had missed, teasing us over photos, and generally telling us what a great time they'd had. All good! Very happy!
We stuffed out faces, I drank about 3 liters of coke and was bouncing off the walls in no time, and sauntered home (dropping various punters off on the way) int time for me to lie on my back in bed staring at the ceiling unable to sleep in my caffeine and artificial sweetener induced insomnia, while Yorkie snored his head off after consuming god knows how much beer (lucky BEEP).
This morning we drove down to my Mum's house to repeat the whole process (minus the gallons of beer for Yorkie, thankfully) at John's 60th birthday. As we arrived Mum announced that she got the wedding DVD back yesterday. But with one or two faults.... like my name being spelt wrong, Towneley Hall being spelt wrong, and Best Man also being spelt wrong. So we sat down to that, the two of us, and watched our wedding on TV. HOW SURREAL IS THAT? I laughed though most of it, complained loudly at the fact that neither mothers reading was filmed properly (you can hear them, the camera is focused on US! Grr!), and then, just as I we were getting to the very end of the film, with the best still of the day shown to music, guess who breaks down in tears like a sap? ME!
What makes it worse is that mum then announces that she will be playing the DVD non-stop throughout the day for the various guests as they arrive.
Granted, a few people DID want to see it. I escaped out into the garden between showers, but after the third showing I did mange to convince mum that it really did NOT need to go on again. Today is about John's 60th, not reliving our wedding. Who wants to see someone else's wedding that many times? No one cares! I'd hate it if it was done to me!
Aside from that the day was lovely. Johns grandchildren had a ball running about like loons, dancing to Crazy Frog (Is that STILL popular??) and eating cake. John and his Uncle Erny were showing off their magic skills with card and coin tricks, the ladies huddled together and gossiped, and the men sat about and looked dazed! Sounds like a good party to me!
Although two days of party food it taking its toll... Yorkie was bloated and uncomfortable all the way home, and my muffin tops are starting to look more like a cottage loaf, but you can't have everything in life all in one go, and there's always time to restart the diet... tomorrow!