I'm glad the weekend is over

Seriously.

Not because I'm eager to get back to work (though I love my job etc etc...)- it's just been a really cruddy weekend.

First up was the disappointment of Albion being robbed of the FA final place.
This was swifly followed by a really miserable journey down the M11 to Gatwick. A 3 hour journey took 6 hours and we're non-the-wiser as to why. For some reason the traffic snarled up and it took an hour to crawl forward to the next junction, where we wanted to get off to go and get some food. However, everyone was being forced off here by the traffic cops.
Having stopped for some food we drove back to the M11 to find it was still closed, so we were diverted way out of our way for an hour to the next junction (with no chance for stopping because of the sheer volume of traffic being sent down these B-roads.) So, we now have 2 screaming kids in the car - joy. When we get back to the M11 the next $odding junction is blocked by a traffic cop even though we can see traffic on the M11 over his shoulder! So we (and several thousand over motorists) are diverted back into the countryside for another hour (by which point someone has a smelly nappy and is screaming like nobody's business) until we finally reach the M25. I've never been so pleased to reach the Orbital.
When we finally arrive at our hotel we find that there's no cot in our room, and when I complain I'm told that all the rooms are too small to have a bed, sofa bed (for Luke) and cot (for Ben). How naff is that?!!!
So, Ben slept with Mummy, and I had to sleep on the sofa bed with Luke. This was not a bed, it was a few planks of wood strapped loosely together with a thin piece of sponge on top. Even a couple of pints at London's extortionate prices couldn't send me to sleep.

In the morning I'm grumpy. The last thing I want to do is go and sit in church while someone old enough to be my Grandma's grandad preaches, before waking up my nephew, Callum, causing him to scream when bottled water is poured on his head! Sorry everyone,no offence intended - but I'm not religious, so I kinda opted out of this stuff!

Now I like snow, however, 4 inches of the stuff in the space of 2hours made for a pretty treacherous drive to the church (in deepest darkest knowhereland) while all I can think about is wanting to get home safely. So when the Missus decides we should go on to the reception afterwards I'm getting peed off again, and by this point have consigned this to being the worse weekend ever.

Anyway, to round things off we managed to escape after an hour at the reception and was still snowing heavily. By the time we got to Dartford the snow had cleared but we had another big delay trying to get in the Dartford tunnel. So, the journey back was about 4hours. And no snow at all at home!

With hotels, petrol, food, gifts etc, it was a pretty expensive 2 hours (i.e. the time spent in the same rooms as [but no interaction with] afore mentioned nephew.)