Oh how things change. The following example is an illustration of how far the other way I have now gone:
Typical morning with Chris if we are due to be out of the house in an hour:
1 hour to go:
Chris: Fancy a coffee?
Me: That would be lovely. Let's make some fresh coffee.
55 Minutes to go:
Me: This coffee is lovely
Chris: Let's have another!!
50 minutes to go:
Chris: Are you going to have first shower
Me: Yes....You'll never guess what happened to me yesterday...
Conversation continues
40 minutes to go:
Me: Right I really should get in the shower now
More chatting and laughter. At this point Chris often decides to clean the toilet (this is a total mystery to me! Our toilet is very clean and this seems to be Chris' reaction to the fact that we are running late)
25 minutes to go:
General rushing around, showers, smudged makeup that needs redoing, swearing and running out of the house only to forget something.
You get the picture? My husband and I are great at chatting, making each other laugh and cleaning toilets but are absolutely hopeless at getting out of the house on time.
Saturday morning was literally a carbon copy of the above with the added twist that we were going to a wedding and had a train to catch.
We were of course running late and as we sprinted from Leicester Square tube to Embankment (well Chris srinted and I lagged behind in my heels that were slipping like crazy because of my tights) I heard a weird sound and the next minute felt a gust of wind around my bottom. The zip of my gorgeous polka dot dress had broken and my dress had split all the way down the back.
Me: Chris!! STOP!!!! My dress has broken
Chris: (Still running) That's OK...come on....
Me: My bottom is showing
Chris: SHIT!!!!! What shall we do???
Total and utter panic ensued. It was 9:30am on a Saturday morning and not one shop was open. We didn't have time to go home and in pure desperation I started hammering on the door of NEXT hoping that somebody would be there.
Finally a lovely woman came to the door and after lip-reading my manic pleas through the shop door and seeing the state of my dress she let us in!!!
After crazily looking for a suitable outfit (there wasn't one) Chris found a black dress. I NEVER wear black at a wedding but these were desperate times. Next came the challenge of getting me out of my other dress in a pitch black changing room. The zip would not budge and even Chris who is very strong couldn't pull the dress apart. We asked the shop-keeper for scissors but she asked in a rather nervous voice why we needed them and denied having any. (I think she was concerned that we were total nutters and was fearing for her safety after all the shrieks coming from the changing room as I tried to lower the dress over my bum).
Eventually after another 20 minutes of screeching, laughing and nearly crying I was safely zipped into my new black dress. I was sweaty and my makeup was everywhere.
At this point I would like to thank the following people:
Chris: For getting me out of my dress and later on literally pushing me onto the train (by this time my legs and feet had literally seized up from lack of fitness and slippy heels) so that we did indeed make the wedding.
My Sister-in-law: For lending me a red belt that detracted slightly from the funeral feel of my dress
I would not like to thank the woman who stage whispered that she didn't know you were allowed to wear black at weddings as I walked past her!!
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