The Hangover and the I Phone

Yesterday Miss P and I had planned to have a cooking day. Since she didn't get out of bed until nearly lunchtime o'clock and I didn't get my act together to do my grocery shopping until about 1.00pm the idea kind of fell by the way side. By the time I got home, packed the grocery shopping away and made lunches and a menu plan for this week I was shattered. Miss P didn't have a shower until tea time so the whole day was pretty much written off. I traded cooking for quilting instead.  I ended up spending most of the night playing logo quiz with Miss P and planning our attack for an early start on Sunday for Cookfest 2012. 


Mr. P went out last night to celebrate the 40th birthday of twin friends of his. I  elected to stay home because I've met one of the twins once when he came to clean my windows and have never met the other.  My  logical thought process around situations like this are that I have a more significant relationship with the dude who serves me at the supermarket each week and I wouldn't go to his birthday party either.  I don't think Mr. P really gets my attitude to social gatherings because frankly that man would go to the opening of an envelope. 

I offered to drive Mr. P and one of his mates to the celebration but they insisted on taking a taxi so I didn't have to go out in the cold.  Their thoughtfulness was rendered completely pointless 15 minutes later since I got an emergency phone call from Mr. P asking me to come out in the cold to deliver his wallet because he'd left it at home. Yes folks-  it's hard to buy drinks at the pub with no money. Especially if you don't have boobs. 


I think it was creeping close to daylight before Mr. P actually made it home. He came through the door to the delight of the dogs who were sharing the bed with me. Indy tap danced all over the bed in glee(and when 100 pounds of dog is happy and using your bed as trampoline you're bound to get woken up) and Lola, who is definitely short sighted, barked and snarled until she recognised it was Mr. P.  All this kerfuffle was accompanied by the  sounds of Mr. P attempting to be quiet by shouting "Be Quiet-Don't wake Mummy" for at least 3 minutes at the top of his lungs. He then stomped off to the lounge (I'm pretty sure he thought he was tiptoeing )in a vain attempt to pretend he had nothing to do with all the noise and immediately passed out in his chair. He finally made it to bed about 1/4 past 7 and then started making "I'm going to chuck " noises in his sleep. I gave up and got out of bed. 


I decided to spend a couple of hours quilting while I waited for Miss P to rise from the dead. A couple of hours turned into 4 and by that time it was almost lunch'o'clock again. 


At this point I decided brunch was in order and Miss P finally surfaced, serenaded by the smell of cooking bacon. Mr. P staggered out of bed. He took one look at the frying bacon and headed for the toilet. Once he was done he decided it was the perfect time for romance and attempted to kiss me. Blerk- no thanks. He stomped back to bed feeling very sorry for himself after telling me he couldn't recall what time he got home, how he got home, or how he sustained the graze on his wrist. His genius deduction was that he fell over. Move over Sherlock Holmes, there's a new super sleuth in town! Have I ever mentioned that my husband used to be a P.I?


Over brunch Miss P and I planned who would do what with the cooking. I obviously wasn't listening too well because here's how it actually went down.

I collected all the ingredients 

I mixed all the ingredients 

Miss P played with her I Phone 

I cut up a chicken and told Miss P to watch because she was doing the next one 

Miss P ignored me and played with her I Phone some more. 

Miss P had a whinge about how she hates cutting chicken ...

I cut some more chicken 

I put some of the chicken bones in a pot to make some stock 

And drowned the chicken pieces I had just cut in marinade 

While Miss P played with her I Phone a bit more 

I washed the dishes by hand if you don't mind, since the dishwasher was full of dishes getting clean.

while Miss P went and hid in the toilet for a while 

Then I started collecting the ingredients to made Indian meatballs (which are made from the flavours of India not actual Indians ) 

At this point, Mr. P surfaced again to watch the football. Doesn't he look refreshed and healthy and not at all hung over (cough , cough ) 

And then I literally bullied Miss P into helping by confiscating her I Phone and threatening to lose her sim card in the toilet.

Mr. P saw all of 10 minutes of the football before he crashed like a 12 month old baby who has been at Playgroup all morning.

I went shopping for essentials . As of tomorrow Loz and I are going to torture ourselves by not shopping for at least the next month. I had to buy a cow and a bread making machine and some seeds so I can have fresh vegetables. I have no idea what Mr. P or Miss P  did in my absence. I'm assuming it involved something to do with I Phones and snoring.

When I came home I made up some chicken and vegetable soup 

While Miss P straightened her hair 

and then I rolled up the meatballs and cooked them 

 while Miss P put on her makeup.

And all the while Mr. P napped in bed 

Then I cleaned up the soup and meatball mess so I have room to cook chicken masala for dinner and then drive Miss P home. 

Lessons learned in the last 48 hours :

"Lets do some cooking together Mum" really means "How about you cook my meals for the week Mum while I talk on my I Phone and make myself beautiful"

"I promise I wont do anything stupid " really means "Im coming home so drunk I'll be lucky to be able to tell the cab driver where I live". ( I suspect the cab driver snuck a peek at his drivers licence to find out) 

All I want right now is a shower and a hair wash because I've looked like this all day ....