In sad news, mrs hhn (me) has been forced to post in place of hhn. hhn is in shock and mourning as his late-night-super-exclusive-Prince-after-show-jam-gig at the O2 last night did not happen. hhn spent most of yesterday in excited mood - he and the waunch braved the boat to east london arriving promptly for the midnight gig. hhn and the waunch waited and waited (hhn was kind enough to text me every hour or so just in case I was trying to sleep) and eventually at 4.30am they took the decision that his purpleness was unlikely to show. (This was after 2 hours of Dr John - personally, I like to think I'd have caved earlier).
They returned on said boat and sat on the embankment 'chatting' until eventually the music obsessed pair went their separate ways. hhn returned to our home at 7am, clumped up the stairs, flung open the bedroom door, and, black as thunder, declared 'He didn't blo*dy play...can you believe it mrs hhn...he was a no-show'. I could believe it, of course, so after patting him sympathetically on his slightly chilled and early-morning damp shoulder I left my beloved hhn to sleep off his distress whilst making him sausage sandwiches and a banana smoothie.
So...hhn recovers slowly, hopefully in time for a blog on Monday. But, all 6 readers that he tells me he has, things are bad. At times like this hhn needs your support. He is so upset that he cannot decide whether it was worse that he-who-shall-not-be-named did not play, that Dr John did play, that the waunch had predicted this n0-show, or that a woman was man-handled out of the gig because she was having a fag in the loos (hhn's sense of fairness and justice has clearly not been affected).
In the meantime, if anyone has a spare husband who isn't depressed because of a pop star or asleep because an all-nighter is tough when you're over 40 do send him my way...
the ongoing saga of pretending to be a house husband in the new millennium
Where's Vinderama?
2 comments:
Sausage sandwiches and banana smoothies? That hhn is a lucky feller, Prince or no Prince. I listened to two hours of Doctor Bloody John too, and did I get luxurious foodstuffs brought to me in bed?
Nice first blog, though, mrs hhn. Thanks for that at least.
Nice one mrs hhn, I guess he will have a face even more like thunder this week then. Sausages will fill a hole but he's clearly gone through an emotional rollercoaster. Now is the time for you to gethim to snap out of it. A bucket of cold water over him while he's sleeping it off will do the trick (possibly).
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