Having been ill for one week now (not that I have mentioned it much, or moaned about it, or been sent home from work because of it, or been sighing every 10 minutes - something I inherited from my dad), I just hope I'm at the end of the cold-morphing-into-sinusitis.
Mr Humdrum returned from an overnighter in Brighton on Saturday, and threw this at me: "I suppose you'll be going to do our weekly shopping?"
I threw this back. NO. Last Sunday I managed, whilst feeling awful (did I say I had been ill?) to cater for and throw an afternoon party for 20 adults in my house for Mr H's mum's 60th birthday, then during my two days off in bed, I managed to cook for all of us, and pick the Boy up from school, take him to Beavers and swimming, then when I returned to work for two days, only to be sent home early each day, I still picked the Boy up and cooked, oh and looked after him on the aforementioned overnighter when the sinusitis was really kicking in.
AT WHICH POINT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY I CAN'T COPE? I JUST WANT A REST.
So he went shopping. He cooked me a delicious steak in peppercorn sauce. He cleared up. He put the Boy to bed whilst I bathed. He brought me a cup of tea in the bath. I got a lie in, albeit woken up already by the Boy but at 8.30 (not bad), and I have just finished my breakfast in bed, which was two warm croissants with slithers of butter and blueberry jam, oh and with a cup of tea.
Thank you Mr Humdrum. It's just what I needed.