I have been a pregnant hormonal and irrational cow with a serious chocolate addiction for the last couple of days, and poor Tom has been bearing the brunt.
Yesterday Tom popped into town at lunchtime to have a break from work and more importantly to buy me a Crunchie (having cruelly refused to buy me a Chocolate Orange because he is worried about my abnormal and vast consumption of them lately, where to his horror, I practically swallow them whole). He returned 10 minutes later empty handed, having gone into town and realised on arrival that he had forgotten his wallet. He said it wouldn’t be good for the environment to drive back into town again, which is a 10 mile round trip, just for a Crunchie, and offered me a chocolate coin instead. I was mildly insulted by this gesture but managed to comfort myself with a Snickers that I had hidden in the cupboard.
Later that evening Tom went back into town to buy us some fish and chips for dinner and to buy me a Chocolate Orange to make up for him not buying me a Crunchie earlier in the day. He returned with the fish and chips, and he also managed to remember to go to the pub for a quick pint, BUT FORGOT MY CHOCOLATE - AGAIN. I had a massive strop, told him that he was unsympathetic to my needs, and selfish, and stormed off to bed with just a bag of chocolate coins and a hot chocolate to pacify myself.
When Tom came to bed he told me that I had over-reacted about the Chocolate Orange and that I needed to calm down. I sulkily told him to be quiet because I was trying to watch Big Brother.
At 11.30pm, Betty, somehow sensing an atmosphere between us from her nursery, decided to wake up and come to the aid of her poor daddy and rescue him from her horrible mummy. She came into our bedroom and merrily bounced around on our bed, singing and laughing, and demanding that we kiss her soggy smelly duck at regular intervals. This charade went on til 4am, during which time she refused to be put back in her own bed and refused to go to sleep in our bed.
This morning I am absolutely shattered, but have managed to forgive Tom for forgetting the Chocolate Orange, and have apologised profusely. After her surge of energy during the night, I thought Betty seemed remarkably chirpy this morning. However it has just become abundantly clear that she has rapidly deteriorated in the last 10 minutes and is very on edge and tired – she has just burst into floods of tears because she tried to bite into a wooden fried egg at the same time as In The Night Garden finished – all too much for the little lady, so I am carting her off to bed so that we can both have a nap.