"Me Like Lady Ga-Ga"

So I've nearly made it.  The husband is due back tomorrow night... assuming he can be scraped out of his tent and piled back into the car for the trip back down to London.  I haven't heard much from him this weekend which means that he is either a) having such a brilliant time that he has momentarily forgotten his status as a father of two and husband of one  OR  b) he's lost his mobile phone again - somewhere in the vicinity of the Dance Tent (which was where I last heard from him yesterday afternoon).

At any rate, it is with some trepidation that I anticipate his arrival tomorrow.  Having taken advantage of a bizarre burst of domestic energy this weekend, I have 'Spic n' Spanned' my way through this place and now it's positively bursting with lemon-freshness.  What my pristine home will make of the arrival of a smelly, exhausted, muddy, sloppy, homecoming hubbie, I don't quite know.

For his part, Egg is most excited about his Dada's return.  He's had no one to play 'Noughts and Crosses' with, or veto his 24/7 playing of the Nintendo DS Lite.  Moreover he's still smarting that he wasn't allowed to go along.

Dumpie on the other hand has developed a rather worrying crush on 'Lady Ga-Ga'; the knicker baring, blond-wigged, rather promiscuously thrusting pop star he has watched on BBC playbacks clearly too many times, and now has absolutely no qualms about feeling up on the telly.  I have caught him twice with sticky fingers on the screen, mesmerised by her gyrating form and declaring, "Me like Lady Ga-Ga".  Oh dear.  The husband is going to kill me.

Actually it might be the bright pink 'Strawberry Shortcake' training pants currently adorning our two and a half year olds bottom that gets me a spousal telling off.  It's partly because they were 'buy-one-get-one-free' and there was just one pair of boys packs left...and partly because I'm mildly annoyed that Dumps has regressed in his potty endeavors and now appears to absolutely delight in his 'legs in the air and being wiped within an inch of his life' pose, which we resolutely reenact several times a day.   So let the boy wear bright pink for his sins!

Maybe it's a good thing the husband is coming home tomorrow after all.