Naturally, on this the happiest and most holy of Christianity, my day went to Hell in a handbasket.
It started by being woken insanely early since we had to drive two hours away to meet Himself’s family for breakfast. Two hour drive. Nothing to eat first. You can guess what happened, huh? We only got a little lost, and arrived for breakfast just before lunch time.
Thing Two began to feel unwell shortly after we arrived. I’m not blaming the boiled sausage and boiled egg breakfast soup. (Seriously). I can’t blame it since the British half of us took one look and revolted. We are NOT eating THAT.
Thing Two was so ill we had to leave to drive home. Without eating. Having had no breakfast. Not even a sniff of chocolate.
We pulled into a village shop to buy meds to bring Thing Two’s temperature down, and a car reversed into us. (Are you keeping up? Got lost, poorly kid, and now a car bump. What kind of sick joke is this?). No particular harm done, so we limped home and ordered takeout from a wonderful place that was open Easter Sunday. I tipped the delivery chap a fiver, just out of fatigue and gratitude.
Thing Two ended up being seen by a doctor, with a temperature of over 40c. A perfect ending to a perfect day.
(Thing Two seems much better today, thanks!)