After having a horrendous afternoon yesterday, which involved a slimy poo on the carpet and a full blown, big tears, throw herself on the floor tantrum at the park,(where all other mums were looking at me and thinking I'm glad that's not me/what a dreadful child/she's rubbish) I was looking forward to today.
It's sports day. The husband took the afternoon off work especially.
I wish he hadn't.
From the moment he put his proper running trainers on with his shorts for the mum and dads egg and spoon race, I knew we were in trouble.
He lost the egg and spoon race. I was glad.
He came home, played with the kids for an hour and decided to try his hand at making Thai crab cakes for the first time. Weirdo.
So, whilst the kids are screaming hungry, I am trying to prepare their dinner and he is pulping bread, topless, with the moobs hanging out, happily oblivious to the chaos that surrounds him.
I have always wished he works from home.
Now I am glad he doesn't.
Roll on 8am tomorrow morning....