Mrs J is working Sat & Sun so It’ll be begging them not to declare war in Sainsburys, take eldest climbing, spend the day playing a little game we call “chase the mess” oh it’s great, they destoy the living room, so I tidy it, only to discover once I’m done they’ve destroyed the dining room, so I clean that only to discover… we play ALLLLLLLLL day sometimes.
Monday, I thought, you know, I might get out on my bike – but it seems that Mrs J has stitched me up like a kipper – many weeks ago she causally mentioned that there’s a fayre down the road BH monday and would I like to take them – “but of course dear” I said, but she knows full-well that if she said “there’s a fayre down the road BH monday, would you like to take us – but bare in mind it’s my weekend to work” I would have said “Oh hell no, sod that, it’ll be crap, it’ll cost me £50 some how and I’ll hate every moment of it, I’d rather eat my own face”. So she omitted that part.
So I’m riding Sunday afternoon-evening, when it’s due to be cold, wet and windy.