No it's Louis who's taken on the chief role of camera man this week. A kind person in resort lent him their hideously expensive GoPro helmet camera and he's taken loads of video footage of his ski class. I'm not going to show that either. Endless pictures of kids doing random stuff isn't likely to float your boat unless your own little darling is in shot.
Instead you're getting a woeful tale of domestic drudgery. For we arrive home tonight at midnight to a home that's a complete pit. For I replaced leisurely, organised packing on New Year's Eve with acceptance of an impromptu invite to the neighbours for a drink and nibbles. My shambolic travel bags consequently contained loads of leggings and jumpers but only three vest tops to get me through a ten day period. That includes one I've been wearing as a pyjama top for the whole time! And the house, well I know it looks like a whirlwind has hit it but I fear that my final memories when closing the door do not paint the full picture of the carnage.
So this little poster thing that I came across on Facebook seems very apt at the moment in spite of its reference to marriage. I'm thinking that it's a good job that I'm single at the moment and no other adult has to share the pit of destruction that awaits me back in Blighty. But hey, let's look on the bright side and put all that intermittent slovenliness down to a healthy creative streak!