I shall be without my husband and without Twitter for a few days.
For unknown reasons I decided to accept an invitation from my friend (with the nightmare children) to go camping with her and hers. Not that I own any camping equipment apart from wellie boots as I leave it all behind at festivals in sheer laziness, refusing to carry it back to the car, hungover.
My tribe of four including a 3 month old baby and I shall be sharing a 10 man tent with friend and her bf, their two girls with ADHD and their nightmare toddler, who bites and spits. Aparantly we are being joined by her bf’s best mate and his new girlfriend. Best mate’s girlfriend has the same name as me and has just been informed that best mate and I used to engage in regular casual sex. AWKWARD. I have been informed of her criminal record for shoplifting.
The island I shall be vacating on, is only accessible when the tide goes out, leaving me stranded and unable to come home whenever my heart may desire. Knowing my luck and previous track record of calamity, I shall be marooned on Harper’s Island with a psycho serial killer on the prowl or a rogue welsh bear wanting to steal my crisp supply.
I feel ill at the thought of going but cannot devastate the kids.I’ve never even camped properly before, my only experience being the festivals where you are too loved-up and drunk to care as you tumble into your waterlogged tent and fall asleep before your head even hits the floor.
Husband is also looking forward to a few days break home alone. God knows what I will return to! Thousands of empty Haribo packets and him, unmoved, playing the same console game as when I left.
So, in my absence, please miss me and spare a thought to the insanity I will be suffering with. Hopefully, my husband will blog some depravity on my behalf.