It doesn't happen often - thank God.

Hubby doesn't drink. If he does it's only a can of lager every now and again, but yesterday he went out with his old workmates. Five hours later I'm waiting outside the pub because I've never ever gone into a pub or rang him to chivvy him up, and I'm not starting now.

So 45 mins after the time he asked me to pick him up he comes out of the pub. With a cheeky smirk on his face and walk that took twice as long as it would have done if he was to have walked it in a straight line, he gets to the car. Arriving at his mum's house so I could pick up the girls, he was given his tea. Bad move.

Readers of a nervous disposition should probably not read any further...

It didn't take long before he needed escorted to the bathroom with cries of "don't throw up on your mum's cream carpet" ringing in the air (that would be me). He made it to the bathroom door and threw up. Now watching him skite through the bathroom like Bambi on vomit was amusing, but his mother was not amused. Off she goes for a bucket to clear the floor up with him still Bambying on the floor. I managed to catch him by the waistband of his jeans and this stopped him going down thankfully. I'm balancing him over the toilet as his mother is on her hands and knees. This was not a good moment for hubby to try and use her as a seat. Stopping him from doing so and having to wash the bottom of his shoes so he didn't trample any of his tea onto the cream carpet whilst extracting him from the house was like trying to shoe a horse.

We managed to get him into the car and we weren't down the drive before he told me to hurry up because he was going to be sick again. Opening the window for some fresh air was a good idea as he vomited Scooby Doo style, with it running down the side of the car, back lashing in the window and spattering on Biggey and listening to the girls hueying in the back like a dawn chorus was an interesting drive home... 

At home I got the washing up bowl out into the drive way and washed the car down, in the dark I might add, before cleaning him up to get him out of the car. He came into the house with great difficulty and went into the kitchen. Watching him trying to take his shoes off was like watching a horse do dressage or a bull getting ready for a stampede, before he threw up in the sink. I was not amused - I was the one that had to unblock the sink. He then thought it would be a good idea to sit on the seat (thankfully a seat and not a human this time). Now this seat is wooden, but it propelled itself across the kitchen floor like it was on wheels. What stopped the seat, and my husband? The cooker did. Shatterproof glass might be shatterproof, but it isn't hubby proof. Glass exploded everywhere and into places you wouldn't have thought it would land, and it took me an age to brush and sweep it up. He danced up the stairs (that's the best way to describe it) singing "come on ********, it's time to go to bed" (******** is the name of the dog), but the dog was having non of it. He spent the night in his dog bed downstairs - which he's never ever done before.

This morning, the last Sunday before the girls go back to school, and the last chance of a lie in, we were up at 8.30am. I never said a word. He came downstairs fresh as a daisy, no hang-over, no headache (which I think he should have had because the cooker took no prisoners), and sat down for his coffee. He looked at the cooker and asked if it was still working. "I'll never use the grill again hubby, but I can't remember the last time I used it anyway" was my response. He drank his coffee and went into the living room to get his laptop out. Gumtree was put on and cookers were researched. I'm now getting a six ring gas cooker which is bigger than the cooker space and needs a cupboard to be removed, but I'm a happy bunny because I didn't realise we had a gas fitting, and I've always, always wanted one. It is the cooker of my dreams, and I wouldn't be able to afford it full price, but because it's on Gumtree it's affordable (or as affordable as it can be having to replace the cooker that doesn't really need replaced but will make hubby feel better about it having happened in the first place by replacing it). 

Honestly, I don't think you could make up the things that happen in my house, I really don't think you could.