Why are you still working?

Despite desperately feeling that a day in bed would be preferable, I dragged myself into work to make sure the broken things got fixed (they were done before 9) and that we had enough staff to cover everything.

The plan was to take Owen into nursery for the afternoon and I'd pick him up early but it soon became clear that wasn't going to happen. So, with everything looking OK at work I headed home to let Louisa get to work and do my remaining  couple of meetings from home...including the meeting where Owen burst in saying "Why are you still working?".

Then it was an afternoon of chilling on the sofa feeling sorry for ourselves...he wasn't actually asleep here, just didn't want a photo. 


After his outburst he went quiet and I heard him go upstairs. Turns out he'd taken his chocolates out of his stocking and unwrapped them in his bedroom. He obviously wasn't sure whether it was wring or not as he told me not to look, while pointing. Cue a conversation about why he shouldn't do it and reluctantly putting them back.