I’ve been with my charming (pah) aussie bloke for over 5 years now, and we have two rug rats together. On a recent family outing to a friends bbq I suggested that we should head home by 9pm. Afterall we just bought a place that we want to work on and renovate the next day.
“9! No way, we’ll be leaving at 6.30 for sure! I don’t wanna waste our Sunday tired and hungover.”
Right, pay attention to that comment readers…
We head out with our two kids, me, the designated driver, boohoo 😦
The Time Warp
Anyway 6.30pm rolls around, and we’re just sitting down to eat. My bloke is at least 9 beers down and very jolly!
8pm rolls around, the kids have their bath and get into their pj’s.
9pm My man is chatting and having a great time.
Time speeds up….
We head home at 1.30am!!
Most hilarious (ahem) part of it all, he asks the next morning “So what time did we get home? 9.30pm?”