yesterday I was very ill, at first it was the fun kind of ill where you watch t.v all day and then it went to the not fun kind of ill where you can't look at light and you want to chop your head off, luckily Dan suggested phoning NHS direct instead. Now I'm back to the fun kind of ill where you sit in bed at 11.32am writing a blog and sneezing.
When I first got ill the night before last I went up for a rest just after tea and lovely Dan did all the cleaning up. My throat got scratchy and I got a bit of a headache and I didn't want to shout downstairs to him so I did a very lazy thing and phone the hose phone from my mobile. I said 'I feel poorly can you come upstairs' in a really pathetic voice. Unfortunately he heard 'I feel horny can you come upstairs' and he was up in a flash. He may have been a little disappointed to be sent out to co-op to get soothers and paracetamol, but as it says in the marriage vows:
when I'm skint and when I'm loaded,
when I'm poorly when I'm horny,
if it life's wicked or if it's pants,
you have to love me till I die (and probably for a bit afterwards)
and I will too.
lets spit on it. (because that is what a kiss is really)
Love you Daniel. xx
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