As the husband cruises at 35,000ft somewhere over Denmark, I can feel a sigh of relief start to escape me as my solo stint comes to an end (at least until Monday). This week has been long, with F deciding to ditch his daytime naps and me on constant potty watch, I feel knackered. Oh and not to mention F's heart stopping head dive down a flight of stairs, which has probably caused a dozen grey hairs to sprout. So tomorrow night I'm handing over the child, putting on some heels and heading to
Bravas.
If anyone needs me I'll be in the corner, attached to a Mojito.
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