Bman’s birthday weekend was not quite the love-in he may have envisioned when I initially booked Weetwood Hall for a romantic getaway. I came down with some kind of hideous Aussie/bird/porcine/alien (delete as appropriate) flu! I couldn’t make it into work on Friday and stayed in bed sleeping (like a demented person apparently). It was too late to cancel the hotel without paying the full fee so I insisted that we go anyway and at the very least I could die in someone else’s bed and Bman could get his monies worth from the all you can eat buffet breakfast.
It was less ‘Fifty Shades Freed’ and more ‘Only When I Laugh’. They had switched us to a family room which included an extra single bed, so Bman spent the night in that, watching football while I sprawled my virus riddled body over the tiny double bed that both of us probably wouldn’t have fit in together anyway.
Not sure who’s who or who the 3rd dude is?
Not quite the comedy swingathon, overpriced gin and extra person letting themselves in the room adventure that we had last year…But such is life.
Meanwhile. I am just about still alive but am full of snot. It’s horrible. I would not wish it on anybody. On Sunday afternoon I would happily have welcomed the Grim Reaper with open arms. Only feeling marginally better now…but not much.