Everything I have tried to do today has gone wrong. All cars are Brighton bound so there is nowhere to park. Anywhere.
Once home, I wanted to add some Spring colour to this gloomy day by simply putting a couple of pots of daffs on the mantlepiece. It was a disaster waiting to happen. All I was trying to do was cheer the place up a bit and then the old man had to "help" by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. "Are you a bit tired?" Under normal circumstances this would have been deemed compassionate, almost loving. To me it was a red rag to a bull as I continued to knock delicate mementos into the full coal scuttle and spill water everywhere else.
As I was planning the next offensive, the old man de-cluttered the mantlepiece, de-fleaed the cats, went to the dump with all my garden rubbish and then started making hot cross buns.
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