Once Friday hit last week, I was out the office door and on the road, stereo blaring singing Katy Perry at the top of my lungs and on the way to Northampton. After a quick stop-over at the rents to grab a kit-kat and make a withdrawal from the bank of mum, I made my way to Tom’s house for a night of food and loving.
The next day we embraced the mild weather and had a wander round Harrold Country Park. I think the rest of the town had the same idea, because it was jam-packed with dog walkers, kids and experienced hikers, but we had a lovely time and Tom even made a new feathered friend. We even attempted a game of poo sticks, although I think Tom spent most of the time staring at his own reflection in the water, rather than keeping his eye on his own contender.
A big night then followed as Tom’s mum’s hen night had finally arrived. The wedding is in April and I’m picturing something of similar grandeur to Wills and Kate’s big day, so am tempted to go all out and treat myself to a fascinator a la Victoria Beckham.
So with only around 4 weeks to go, Tom’s mum invited 15 of her nearest and dearest to celebrate her last big night out as a single woman. After the first drink, I had already gained a pink sash, a badge and slightly blurry vision as we headed off to dinner. Wearing sky high heels probably wasn’t my brightest idea and before I knew it, I was making friends with the pavement as I fell arse over tit onto the floor.
The night ended abruptly for Tom’s mum after a Sambuca shot pushed her over the edge and she spent the next day in bed, claiming she was going to die and have a Whitney Houston episode in the bath. With the hen gone and Tom joining the festivities, we went on to party the night away.
Sunday we woke up with sore heads and dry mouths, but the sunny weather persuaded us to move from our pit and make the most of the day. We met up with my parents for a spot of lunch by the river and ended the weekend on a high.