So, is it time for a hat?

Very odd.

Last night we all had a "farewell to the house" party as my bro and Jo are moving out on Friday. We were all absolutely spannered on Vana Tallinn, Gin and a rather lethal bright green melon liquor that my mum drank like it was going out of fashion (which I can categorically confirm that it was and has been since about 1976).

We had a delightful beige buffet as they attempted to clear the remnants from the freezer so we feasted on that well known and much loved combination of mini pizzas, chicken dippers, fishfingers and Aunt Bessie's Yorkshire puds - all served as finger food with a range of equally mismatching sauces from all the random, sticky jars at the back of the fridge. Fishfinger with mint sauce anyone? It all got a little too much when we investigated the possibility of garnishing Mum's green liquor cocktail and Brian, the neighbour's, gargantuan Barbadian rum punch with a handful of frozen peas.

We looked through the official wedding album and sank far too much Vana Tallinn (in the end I was just swigging from a bottle and actually managed to sit on the cat at one point my legs were that wobbly). We were all nicely merry, well I'm lying when I say that; we were all blind drunk if the truth be told. Anyway, Tom and I started having a conversation on the sofa about weddings. I don't quite know how it went but he kept saying, "When we're married". I asked him if that was a proposal and he just smiled. I said nothing and coped in my usual way by conversing heavily with Gordon (gin).

This morning I woke up and felt utterly foul. I had a shower but then needed a lie down afterwards as the hot steam had made me feel as though the beige buffet may well make a second appearance. Tom and I were due to go suit shopping today as he's got this week off but is back to work next week and does not want to look like Oliver Twist in his current worn out clobber so we had a military style attack on John Lewis planned.

In the car on the way in, I told him that my mum was making me laugh the day before because she'd found it odd that we were trying for a baby but not getting married. Tom just said, "You don't want to get married though do you?" I replied that I didn't want the hassle of planning a big wedding and needed some breathing space after what had happened but that I wasn't averse to an engagement. He then said, "Well, if you're asking me to marry you, my answer's yes but I don't think asking me on a roundabout on the way into town was very romantic." I replied that I hadn't just asked him and he said, "So, I'll cancel texting everyone that you've just said yes?" I replied that I thought he was texting people to say that I'd asked him! He then asked me if I would have been bothered if he'd texted everyone saying he'd asked me and I'd accepted and I replied "No". I was really confused by this point and said "But you haven't asked me and I haven't asked you!" His reponse was that "How can neither of us have asked each other but yet both of us have agreed to it in the last five minutes?"

I had no answer to that.

I am still none the wiser although Tom is £700 poorer as he bought two suits, I bought myself a peppermill and then nearly threw up in the car park from this sodding hangover.

I have no idea what happened today. Tom's gone home now and I've gone to bed.

All very odd. Must be the fishfingers.

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