I'm sat twitching and seething... Trying to fix a DS, help with a six year olds Christmas list and get the slow cooker on for a hearty Autumn feast. All before 9am on a Sunday morning.
I vaguely, very vaguely, remember when Sunday mornings were about sitting around (with a hangover) watching Goals on Sunday. Then, at about 11am, having a Full English and then a soak in the bath with a good book. At about 2pm I would then be ready to join the world of the living. Oh how times have changed.
My perfect Sunday morning will not be realised for at least another five years. Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder...
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