I have just woken up from a 1 hour kip (I reckon it was that bottle of wine I was forced to finish
) having just had my daughter and Son in Law for Boxing day lunch. I even received a "that was bloody lovely" from him so it must have gone down well. I did a nice pork joint and the crackling was (ahem) perfect
together with new Cyprus potatoes, roast potatoes, cauliflower, broccoli, glazed carrots, roast parsnips, sliced green beans, mange tout, Brussels sprouts tossed in bacon bits, pigs in blankets, and battered onion rings and Yorkshire pud’s (SIL's favourites)
and gravy. I am still wading through all the washing up, most of it done and put away, just the burnt on stuff to do now
during the adverts in the latest Jurassic Park film.
But DH seems to be able to just sit and fall asleep in the chair at any time of the day - or night, if it comes to it! He had me waiting on him hand, foot and finger since Saturday afternoon and seems quite happy to do so. He won't even make himself anything to eat or drink, let alone me. I've had to keep away from food today, so he's decided that he's too sick to eat too, but the smell of food is making me feel sick and how the hell I cooked a Christmas dinner yesterday, I haven't a clue. DH ate it though. 
I am determined not to concede defeat and feed him though. He's now asking me whether he should toddle off to put his lottery on! Mmm! Rant over! As you were! 
)
