Gone shopping

After the late arrival in London, it was a slow start for everyone. Actually, that's rubbish - the kids were right up and at it, delighted to see C and baby toddler L. Once the hosts were dispatched to work, school and doctors, we headed off to the shops: me and the kids to the enormous Westfield Shopping Centre and Mr B to look at another car. Somehow we talked ourselves out of the practical rangerover style vehicle that a builder should have, and into another saloon car, but this time with 4-wheel drive and working aircon.

This sign greeted me in the shopping centre. I think it's for a gym. I didn't investigate. The kids, in their usual unerring way, veered towards the toyshop end of the shopping centre, but we somehow managed to come home with the little extras we needed for the present for a friend's party tomorrow.

The evening was a blur of food, cocktails, wine (we did put the kids to bed at some point) and then the night took a dangerous turn. You know that point where the host produces a bottle of port and says "shall we open this"? You should always say "No" right? On the basis that if you're drunk enough to agree, you're really going to suffer the next day....

And so we did.