Dear Kath and Eleanor.
This my darlings, is an apology and a scrumptious Thank you for the bouncy castle party you oh so delightfully threw yesterday without a thought it seems for the havoc a three year old’s party would reign on your beautiful home, combined with an errant, guilt ridden husband and the worst rain we’ve seen since, mmm, well since the day you rang with a paint chart emergency and insisted I come RIGHT NOW in case mistakes of the cream/white/beige kind were inflicted on your walls. Remember that? Remember Finley and I, like a pair of drowned rats on your doorstep?? I may never forgive you.
However it is forgiveness I am seeking.
I rather suspect I was no help at all. It was the shoes you see.
I mean really, what kind of trollopy Yummy Mummy don’s ludicrously high red patent leather stiletto’s to a kids party ?? (The kind who’s little black
Perhaps we should arrange a Friend Swap??
Anyway back to the shoes. While there is no doubt that I felt like Dorothy on vino, the truth is they were killing me. And so rather than inflict feet smelling to high heaven on your unsuspecting nighbours, I sat and grimaced in a "this is my happy face" kind of way and made crazy conversation with anyone who cared to sit next to me, instead of careering around the kitchen chucking pizza at whining kids and eradicating your house of the kind of rubbish only a childrens party can deliver to your door…
Forgive me? Next year I will buy a pair of crocs, and you can keep me busy while trying not to laugh at my feet.
Have a scrumptious day, Honeys. Where would I be without you?
P.S: Thank goodness no-one saw me bouncing in the castle all by myself…x