What a busy few days!
The much anticipated wardrobe was delivered early Friday morning, all 80kg of it and the other half set to putting it together. I think he was more excited than me doing this which at the time I found a little weird - who enjoys putting together flat pack furniture? But then Friday evening found me hurrying to the flat, loaded up with just a small selection of my clothes ready to put the wardrobe to good use. As I was putting my clothes away it hit me...I was putting down little roots, marking my teritory if you like. There would be no more overnight bags at the foot of the bed showing my status as a visitor only. I had moved in properly- & even though there are still clothes & bookshelves to be moved in, I am now an offical live-in girlfriend - a bottle of bubbly was even opened to celebrate the building of the wardrobe (rather than me moving in!)
Saturday went by in a blur of White & Red rugby shirts, living in a duel-nation household there would be only one happy person - thankfully Wales were victorious which meant the other half could gloat, grin and drink his body weight in beer. I became the sober-ish girlfriend who's only task was getting him safely home with no arrests or accidents. At 4am on Sunday morning I found myself trying to sleep on the sofa with a towel as a very poor duvet substitute, cursing the idiot who was currently asleep on MY side of the bed, intent on giving me a drunken dead weight hug as soon as I got within reach. I must admit the thought of my old own bed, without the drunken Welshman was calling loudly to me...it was only the realisation that I was on no fit state to drive anywhere that kept me coldly curled up on the sofa...I finally crept back to the warm bed when I heard him move back to HIS side.
I had every intention of waking up on sunday morning angry with him for being so bloody anoying the previous night, but that soon disappeared when he got up to make me a cup of tea with minimal persuasion...and brought me a Curly Wurley...the breakfast of champions! As we re-lived the particularly funny exploits of the night before I realised that I couldn't be angry with him, I knew what state he was likely to get into and even though I was unlikely to ever get as drunk as he was, he will always look after me too.
An added bonus of Wales winning was him admitting to placing a bet on Wales to win the 6 nations. It wasnt an insubstantial bet and so he was cash rich for a few days...my reward for being such a lovely girlfriend??? Choosing whatever washing basket I wanted for the flat...as long as it was only from The Range and came in at under £50! After a bit of canny purchasing not only had he brought the agreed washing basket but also pictures, shelves & a coat rack...its these little things that make a house (or flat!) a home. The suggestion of a throw in case of future sofa sleeps was firmly rejected though - that needs to be work in progress!
The hangovers were put to good use eating far too much grease and carbs at a family pub dinner for a belated Mother's Day and as I sat at the table surrounded by his family I felt that I was a part of that family too, it was a great, comfortable feeling and because my blood family are spread so far around the country it was an occasion that up until now I experience so rarely...of course the heavy food did the exact opposite of making our hangovers better and we ended up falling asleep at 7pm complaining of painful stomachs and sleepy comments of "never again"...