Wreck

In an effort to forget my lament as single mum for a week-end I drowned my sorrows in sparkling water yesterday. I kicked Duvelman's arse in table tennis (or that's what I like to believe), jumped on one of those blow-up castles (is it bouncy or bouncing castle?), watched my partner-in-crime Le Feux perform spectacularly, learned what happened when you dare a straight man to do something, shared a woozy-making bottle of sniffing glue and had unfortunate acute flashbacks to when I was 15.
I was not a happy teenager.
Now my head hurts, I'm tired and I'm meant to watch Hungarians play football and engage in conversation with the father-in-law.
That'll teach me.

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