I know, I know, I have been slack the last couple of weeks with my posting. As they say the road to hell is paved in good intentions and none have been better than mine!
This last weekend was crazy, as previously predicted. The bachelor’s went off with a bang, many a hangover and more successfully achieved. My husband came rolling in at 5am a veritable paragon of society compared to the other drunkards! I know this as I was the welcoming party for the early arrivals (we had 7 or so people staying with us after the bash) who came in requesting necessities such as water, buckets and headache pills…. I am sure by now you can see the theme this post will be taking so read on.
As beds and bedding were limited I had enough sleeping accommodation for an extra 6 people with an additional mattress etc to be provided by the main organiser. Unfortunately in the rush to set off for the evening’s entertainment the extra inflatable mattress was not unloaded the from the car and so we were one bed short. Normally this would not be a problem but things being as they were the couch had already been taken over.
Anyhow, I woke up to the not so quiet debate between Mr X and Americo on whether he could sleep on the floor at the end of our bed. After much discussion (basically Americo gave up arguing) Mr X was provided with pillows from the sofa and our TV rug whereupon he curled up on the floor and drifted into a drunken slumber. Unfortunately Americo and I were not so lucky…
It started with a gentle hum, within five minutes however the snoring had escalated, reverberating about the room and eliminating any chance of sleep. Something had to be done! Americo tried prodding our inebriated friend, calling his name, banging on the bed, all to no avail. Eventually I wrapped the pillow about my head and attempted to get some sleep, you have to understand that although this muted the sound it still fell woefully short of the requirement levels! I cannot explain the racket, something akin to sleeping in a timber mill - under the saw! At one stage I seriously contemplated setting up my hammock on the balcony, finally vetoing the idea once I had reviewed effort against time.
Now you would think that all ends here – guess what, it doesn’t! No bachelor’s is complete without the obligatory hurling episode and ours was no different. When I could remain in bed no longer I ventured into our en suite bathroom, only to stop at the threshold. I won’t give the full graphics as I am sure you can include your own imagery but suffice to say, I made it no further. The downstairs bathroom had fared only slightly better in that the culprit had made it to the toilet. However, all is well that ends well with thanks to Mr X who gave our bathroom floor a thorough cleaning!
Our friend Peter is very happy to have had the bucket of shame title taken from him and handed down to the very deserving brothers grim who have christened the toilets in our new home. They in return were suitably ashamed to have received such particular honour.
This last weekend was crazy, as previously predicted. The bachelor’s went off with a bang, many a hangover and more successfully achieved. My husband came rolling in at 5am a veritable paragon of society compared to the other drunkards! I know this as I was the welcoming party for the early arrivals (we had 7 or so people staying with us after the bash) who came in requesting necessities such as water, buckets and headache pills…. I am sure by now you can see the theme this post will be taking so read on.
As beds and bedding were limited I had enough sleeping accommodation for an extra 6 people with an additional mattress etc to be provided by the main organiser. Unfortunately in the rush to set off for the evening’s entertainment the extra inflatable mattress was not unloaded the from the car and so we were one bed short. Normally this would not be a problem but things being as they were the couch had already been taken over.
Anyhow, I woke up to the not so quiet debate between Mr X and Americo on whether he could sleep on the floor at the end of our bed. After much discussion (basically Americo gave up arguing) Mr X was provided with pillows from the sofa and our TV rug whereupon he curled up on the floor and drifted into a drunken slumber. Unfortunately Americo and I were not so lucky…
It started with a gentle hum, within five minutes however the snoring had escalated, reverberating about the room and eliminating any chance of sleep. Something had to be done! Americo tried prodding our inebriated friend, calling his name, banging on the bed, all to no avail. Eventually I wrapped the pillow about my head and attempted to get some sleep, you have to understand that although this muted the sound it still fell woefully short of the requirement levels! I cannot explain the racket, something akin to sleeping in a timber mill - under the saw! At one stage I seriously contemplated setting up my hammock on the balcony, finally vetoing the idea once I had reviewed effort against time.
Now you would think that all ends here – guess what, it doesn’t! No bachelor’s is complete without the obligatory hurling episode and ours was no different. When I could remain in bed no longer I ventured into our en suite bathroom, only to stop at the threshold. I won’t give the full graphics as I am sure you can include your own imagery but suffice to say, I made it no further. The downstairs bathroom had fared only slightly better in that the culprit had made it to the toilet. However, all is well that ends well with thanks to Mr X who gave our bathroom floor a thorough cleaning!
Our friend Peter is very happy to have had the bucket of shame title taken from him and handed down to the very deserving brothers grim who have christened the toilets in our new home. They in return were suitably ashamed to have received such particular honour.
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