"The Day After"

Awoke this morning with the following: a) a killer hangover b) a home littered with balloons, balloon remnants, and various small pieces of children's toys underfoot c) a vague recollection of having hosted a wine and champagne-fuelled birthday party for a 2 year old and a significantly older-than-two year old the night before (which may correspond with a).

A newly-minted two year old came toddling into our room this morning and I was awoken with the not unpleasant sensation of a sideways slobbery kiss as Dumps leaned over my head from behind and smooched me awake. He remains, as ever, a very happy boy. He always smiles, giggles and when particularly amused, rewards with a dirty little laugh which never fails to make me laugh. He's a cheeky chappie to the nth degree and has a brilliant sense of humor. He is already (as I never fail to tell Jay) much cooler than us and despite his mad scientist chicken-fluff hair, on course to be quite a looker.

He seemed to take all his presents and the attention last night on board in his characteristic way. The party started at 3pm and by 4 he and Egg had already locked themselves in the food and sweet-laden dining room, and were scoffing rainbow brownies in delight on our expensive (and now worthless) creme Habitat sofa (sigh). Sadly, I seemed to spend most of the party in the kitchen organizing trays of food, cleaning, wiping, arranging, and even getting the odd glass of wine down me throat.

Jay pipped about here and there in his fancy new cravat (a present from a dear friend), a goblet of vino in hand at all times and a pretty content grin plastered across his birthday face. I think he enjoyed himself :)

If it weren't for my foggy head and blistering toothache, I think i'd be in a rather good mood today. I have vague recollections of inviting various assorted guests to ours for Christmas lunch, and I think I even promised one interested party that I'd wrangle some sort of bird into my vegetarian oven (and I don't mean that in a kinky, dirty way).

At any rate, I have an insistent Dumps at my side, toy drum in hand, appealing for some play time and 100% of my attention. Poor fellow. I don't even think I have a fraction of that up for grabs. (Ah, to be able to crawl back in bed, take a painkiller for the mouth and sleep for absolutel hours....ahhhhh)