I don’t know how it happened. The lights were low. The candles were glowing on the mantlepiece. I was snuggled up on the sofa under my cosy patchwork quilt, watching Big Brother and laughing at Kinga convincing herself she was drunk on non-alcoholic wine, when taking another sip from my own glass, I suddenly decided we should paint the living room red. Then it struck me that Marks bald patch was funny and that I was missing Finley and it would be a good idea to get him up so we could play car shop. Then I started laughing and couldn’t stop till I choked. Then Marks horrified face made want to cry…
And then I fell off the sofa.
HouseKeepers, I was drunk. Ludicrously paralytic on three glasses of white wine. On a Tuesday night.
Trust me, I’m as shocked as you.
Before I knew it, I was whisked off to bed, tucked in and left to enjoy the pleasures of my spinning bedroom and dwell on what I had done. Three glasses of wine wouldn’t usually send me doo-lally.
Today I have a headache and I have no idea why. Suffice to say, I am a lush of the first order and I am clearly an unfit Mother.