When Dads Go Drinking Part 3

I've just hit my fourth wave or maybe my fifth, I can't quite tell. I hit my pillow at around 2 am and the wee man decided to wake me up at 6:20 am. You do the maths. As it's The Chancellor's day for a sleep in, up I got still drunk from the night before and quickly that sickening feeling rose from my stomach and it took a couple of fried eggs to push it back down again. After I fed the wee man I collapsed on the sofa under a rug and let him watch as much TV as he wanted as long as he didn't make any loud noises. 

As a group of dads we lasted a couple of hours longer that previous attempts and I think I drunk more than I had done too. Good manly discussions were had by all even if as the night progressed they became less and less coherent. We parted ways somewhere in the wee hours but I don't really remember getting home, always the way. 

Today after a morning planting a hedge The Chancellor felt it would aid my recuperation to go for a long walk. It's the thought that counts I suppose. I needed to down a bottle of Fanta just to summon up the energy to get out of the car. Bad times. Having got home all I want to do is go to bed and hope by the morning things have improved. Some of the other dads are today doing a six mile run, I dare say they may well feel the effects of last night. The silver lining is I don't have to run so I suppose there's always someone worse off than you. 

jpr