Beefcake has been struck down with a man-cold. That is to say, we all have a cold, however Beefcake is dying and urgently needed to rush off to the pharmacy in order to dose himself thoroughly with whiney baby drugs.
Drugs, which I cannot have.
Anyhow, it turned out well because he decided to stop working after a few hours today and we spent the rest of the day making comfort food. Comfort food involving pasta and cake, which I should not have. Beefcake makes a gorgeous ginger cake, which is baked in a large baking dish. This is lucky because we tend to need to eat that much of it. Today, being terribly ill, he had put it in the oven when I noted it was rather less thick than usual and lacking in volume. On questioning, it turns out that he had added the ingredients in a rather haphazard order and had somehow forgotten to add one of the cups of flour. We managed to rescue the cake but he has been banned from baking. Still, I have indulged heartily in the carbohydrates and will now need to spend the next couple of days whispering nasty things to myself as punishment.
I stupidly went to bed at about 8pm with Grub and will now be awake until a million o’clock but at the time it seemed I had no choice as I was about to pass out from tired. Since I got up again, Poss has been up to get a drink and has begun laying the groundwork towards spending the day at home tomorrow. Think lots of moaning about blocked noses etc. We just heard her moaning in her sleep though so I think she may genuinely be sick.
Poor Rhubarb, he who brought the pestilence to our house, has been punished severely by enduring his first Monday fitness training for rowing squad. Poor baby had sport just before school finished and then went on to do 90 minutes of situps and rowing practice and the like. He seemed to enjoy it but I notice that his light was out early this evening, which can only mean he was knackered.
Right then, I might try and lay about and moan a bit before trying to head to bed again…… Or perhaps some more cake? Mmmmmm.