Saturday began at 5am for me. Penny was awake and hungry, so the devoted father and husband that I am I got up, made her a bottle changed her and fed her. 5am. What was I thinking?
We went back to sleep (eventually, Penny was gurgling away and generally being quite noisy) and awoke at about 9am. We got up, mooched about a bit, and then Penny's nana arrive to collect her for the day, and night.
The rest of the day, baby free as it was, was spent doing chores and bits of DIY that we wouldn't of been able to do if Penny was about, the Melissa went out to have her hair done and I played some MW3. Thankfully I hadn't lost 'it' and played out of my skin, until Melissa came home, slammed the door and went ballistic that her hair was shit. It wasn't. Not really. But the girl who'd put her rollers in had done quite a slap dash job, and Melissa was furious. I sat there agreeing with her, but really trying to claw back my lead on MW3 until it became apparent that she wasn't going to stop. I turned the XBox off as she stormed into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine and then marched upstairs to sort out 'er barnet. I sat and listened to Orbital, occasionally muttering "oh yes" and "I know" when appropriate.
Then I went to pick Melissa's friend Emma up. When we got back presented I Emma to Melissa who took over my role as my mate Stew arrived. We went to (the) ASDA for some snacks.
We came back to a house full of women and shitty pop music and hid upstairs definitely NOT watching Strictly Come Dancing on iPlayer. Shortly before 7:45pm I was summoned to take photos of the girls (5 of them) before they left in a flurry of hairspray, perfume and high heels. I should explain, Melissa was going out with her girlie friends that she met at Baby Club or whatever it was called. They'd arranged a Christmas night out. Yes, in November.
Once they'd gone me and Stew talked shit, ate food, drank booze and watched Avatar and some choice cuts from The Dark Knight. Melissa arrived home at about 12:30am, quite sober. And went to bed. Me and Stew watched the end of a documentary about Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry and I left him to his comfortable couch and went upstairs to bed.
Sunday saw me waking up with a headache at about 8am. I went downstairs, put the kettle on and made tea and coffee for me, Melissa and Stew and then some bacon butties. Stew got the last egg coz he was the guest. Bastard.
Melissa's dad delivered Penny home shortly afterwards. She'd had a lovely day and night by all accounts. I suspect she was hangover free, too.
Melissa and Penny sat on the couch to catch up with all the reality shite from last night, I came upstairs to try and figure out why my wireless internet keeps dropping out. There was more shitty TV than I'd realised so I walked to (the) ASDA. I just can't keep away from that place. We needed baby formula and other stuff (eggs), so I went for the fresh air and the exercise. I felt good. I saw a dead rat.
Penny and Melissa are still watching drivel on TV while I type this. At some point I'm going to cobble together a lovely roast dinner, and then I'm hoping for an early night but that ball is really in Penny's court.
See you tomorrow!
