See, the difficult thing is I actually did it to myself...accidentally of course! But nevertheless, I feel slightly like I'm trying to cover up for some abusive husband when I explain to people - I fell. Which I did.
I fell onto my own knee and gave myself an egg sized bump. I also twisted my knee so that I can only limp. I muchly resemble Quasisoddingmodo right now. Although, having said that my trip to ASDA was muchly improved as I now seem to fit in with the locals in East London.
The highlight of morning trip to ASDA was the guy who left his basket full of crisps and 18 pack of Stella by the checkout, asked me to hold his place and explained that he'd forgotten to pick up a baby toy...oh wow. It just doesn't get better than that.
I'm now attempting to cook a roast dinner which I've conned a friend into joining me for because the prospect of roasting for one was just too sad. I have absolutely no idea how long all the separate bits take and in the race to be as black as my eye the parsnips are kicking ass. Potentially they will have to be devoured before my friend arrives and realises what a culinary disaster I really am. I do so hate to spoil the illusion that I'm aching to be a housewife in every way.