Girls and I were "raving not behaving" last night. Well, we went to the cinema. The American Reunion; definite must see. Much loling went on and it's so nice to spend an evening with fabulous company, even if one of us could start a fight in an empty room ... you know who you are!
I always find coming out of the cinema a bit of a strange experience, you've lived in someone else's world for the best part of 2 hours so I find it takes a while to reacclimatise. Surreal experiences don't help one bit, but my goodness did we lol again!
So we left my Mr. and Jess's Mr. to go up the local pub for a few. On Fridays we have a carer to get Steve to bed, so they made sure they were home in time to meet her. Of course, they weren't however that keen on stopping the booze flow, they were having a good time and wanted to keep the party going (Stifler would be so proud), so Steve set Mr. E about the task of locating the whisky. The one plus point of being sole carer and queen of our world is that everything stays where I put it, and no one needs to know where that is other than me.
Steve pointed him in the suspected direction of said whisky and he was rummaging around looking for the stash. Being blokes, they had the main light on and the living room curtains open, this was about 11pm. They were soon distracted from the hunt by multiple blue flashing lights tear arsing down the street, and curious as to where they were going, on our sleepy, silent, suburban street.
They were fascinated and a bit bemused that they appeared to stop adjacent to our house and when multiple ARMED Police shot down our driveway they were starting to think they were hallucinating. Had they accidentally run someone over on the way back from the pub with the wheelchair?!? Did someone stick a tequila, complete with worm, in their pints?!?
"Is this your property, Sir?" said the armed, tazered up Police officer at the door to Mr. E, complete with the back up of 2 cars and a meat wagon. "No," says Mr. E "It's his!" pointing at Steve, who I'd imagine was probably singing a song about goblins by this point...
Turns out our lovely carer had arrived at the house a few minutes before all this, noticed unusually that the curtains were open, couldn't see Steve who was drunkenly reclining in his magic chair, and all she could see was Mr. E, complete with baseball cap, rifling through the cupboards in the living room! She'd panicked, thinking we were being burgled and called the fuzz who responded like the SAS.
Poor lovely carer, she was mortified when they'd established what had happened, she couldn't apologise enough. I shall assure her, however, when I see her that no apology was necessary - she's looking after my home, my Husband, my property AND gave me the biggest non film related laugh for some time. I think a bottle of wine might be in order, to calm her nerves if nothing else!
Being disabled is boring, I think not. Not in our house anyway!
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