As you know, today is my birthday. 42. Not a very exciting number, nothing special, but there you go. Twice 21 and half 84. I woke up, expecting (hoping) that at least I'd get a cup of tea in bed today. No such luck. After waiting for ages I decided to go and make one myself.
And you'd think being my birthday someone else would volunteer to empty the dishwasher. No such luck. Did it myself.
And set breakfast up - OK so this didn't take long, but even so...
I had to make a birthday cake to take into school tomorrow (and because it's me, they have also requested scones with jam and cream).
And then there was the washing up to be done.
So having eaten breakfast, my family needed lunch. Was I taken out for lunch? No. Husband is going to work today (not until 4.30) so we can't possibly go out as he wants to clean the car. So I cook lunch.
And then of course there's loads of washing up, which yet again I do on my own. (I'll spare you that photo, it's not pleasant!)
And this afternoon, the ironing basket had miraculously stayed full up, so I had to iron everything in it. And take it all upstairs. And put it away.
And then I had to decorate the aforementioned cake for school.
It is now nearly 7.30 and I'm going to try and enjoy what's left of my birthday. 'Cos I sure as heck haven't enjoyed it so far.
(I must say that amid all this moaning, I did get 5 minutes to open my pressies. But I'll share those with you another day. I'm far too fed up tonight)
Update. Have just remembered that I have to spend the evening writing out invitations to husband's birthday party (printer's bust). It just gets better and better.