My husband and the rantiest of rants

I’m a little bit late for Father’s Day but I hope a good excuse I promise- I ended up in hospital with my crappy back again. More on that later.

I take the piss out of my husband mercilessly and I love having a good moan about his tendencies towards illness and injury but my god that man is a saint for putting up with me and my foibles. I have food rules that are insane- I’d never tried cheese on toast until I was 37. The first time I slept at his house I sleepwalked, rifled his bedside drawer and made a crop circle with his socks around the bed. The time after I managed to get into the fridge and drank a jar of mint sauce. I’ve also had a sleep fight with someone I hated from school and broke my hand on the cast iron bedstead. He was woken by my howling and took me to a&e.

When I met him I was a single parent out of a horrific relationship and he was very clear about not wanting children or marriage. Nonetheless he took on our eldest as his own. She’s been his longer than her biological parent who isn’t involved in her life. I cannot think of a better dad for either of my girls. He is the one who runs out for medicine in the night when they are unwell, he makes sure everyone eats something green at least once a day and he is who I want my girls to judge future relationships by.

 

We aren’t perfect and I often debate strangling you with your fishing line but you are the single best choice I’ve ever made.

Also sorry for ruining Father’s Day with my tantrum about my Gucci shoes being robbed from the hospital.

So, about that.. funny story. Due to a combination of fuck ups I ended up being take to A&E by ambulance with a paralysed leg. Panic grabbed my Gucci trainers- which I proper love and treasure- I hate being without shoes on. I end up doped up on morphine in casualty and my hubby and his mum head off home as they're transferring me to a ward and we had kids to collect.

I'm having a lovely drug induced kip when someone walks past and swipes the trainers right off my feet!!!!!! Fuming isn't the word for how cross I am.

What kind of person do you have to be to steal the shoes off an unconscious person in hospital? Jokes on you dickhead because you missed the handbag which is significantly newer and nicer.

So after falling victim to the hozzy shoe thief I asked for a bag of essentials to be brought in. I'm currently wearing Ste's long johns and a shirt roughly the size of Mars so look like they've rescued me from the streets.
Ste, god love him, made the mistake of asking our eldest to pack me a bag. She sent me in two thongs, my sexiest bra and a Christmas jumper. No pjs, no comfy clothes. I think she thought I was going to seduce a doctor or something whilst I was high and dragging my gammy leg behind me.

 I had to call my best friend to talk me down from disowning the entire family.

I won't forget though Elise, and my revenge will be beautiful. Thankfully my bestest came through and dragged her husband and son down with some decent knickers and pjs for me so I looked respectable.

I had to leave hospital in £1 primarni flip flops though.

Could only happen to me.

 Shoe thief, I hope you get a nasty case of athletes foot and some morals.