Valentines cookies, washed away and a farting back drama.

So I hope everyone has had gorgeous Valentines?

Monty and I made Valentines cookies for James but we made the mistake of baking them on Thursday, and they were eaten by Friday! Whoops! ( But the thought was there.)

So anyway, the day started sweetly, cards exchanged, Mr M loved my present (a massive framed pop art canvas of Bruce Lee) and I had chocs, the promise of a meal out that evening and a 'surprise!' (Which was a bouquet or roses which arrived on the doorstep later on that day.) I am a lucky lady I know, or at least I must be doing something right to get so spoiled?

I made pancakes for breakfast and we all went for a family walk along the beach, the dog was swimming in the sea, Monty and James were throwing stones into the sea. It was blissful.

Then all of a sudden a massive wave comes along, scoops Monty up,drenches him and spits him out! So we walk home, Monty's teeth chattering, the dog in a huff at having his swim cut short.

Monty needs a wee, we have come out without the potty. We decide when he's gotta go he's gotta go and start to go about holding him up against a wall to piddle, he can't hold it and pees in his wellies.

I guess it warmed him up at least?

We sort him out and warm him up as soon as we get home, and My Nan and Grandad (Bobbobs and DeeDee) come to collect him to stay over at theirs to babysit so that we can go out for dinner.

I jump,OK, hobble into a deep hot bath as my hips feel like chalk. This is where I make a school boy error.

I can't be bothered to then have a shower to wash my hair. So I decide to sit in the bath and wash it with the shower attachment, I sit sideways crossed legged and get on with it. All fine.

Then I try to get out.

I can't. I am stuck. I cannot uncross my legs and a combination of my crossed pins and my mahoosive bump means I can't get out,I'm wedged, I had no strength in my arms to tug myself out!

Luckily I didn't lock the door so I can call James to come help. Can he hear me? Can he feck?! (He later told me he was out in the front garden sorting out the recycling. Jeez!)

OK so now I am panicking, I am even doing that thing where you funnel your hands to make yourself louder. I am channelling my inner Pamela from Gavin and Stacey as I often do (SEE THIS POST) except obviously I'm not shouting 'Mick...Micheal...Mick!!' Because that's not his name and he's not coming to my rescue anyway so I do not want to delay things further. I'm getting quite high pitched now with my ' J, James, J!!!!!!' and I am getting cold and oh god what if he's gone to the tip or the shop or something and 'HEEEEEEEEELLLLP!!!!'

Footsteps.

Thank Jesi Chrisi!

He tries to pull me out but I am wedged. And I have no strength to hold onto him properly. Every time he tugs me my back sucks against the bath and makes an almighty farting sound. I get the giggles and start to cry a little bit in hysteria too. My legs are full of pins and needles and I feel a little bit light headed. Finally one big tug and a massive guff sound from my back against the bath and I'm out, but my legs have gone and I've got the giggles.

Dignity is dead I tell ya!