This is my sister Rachel and I today.

We are wearing matching disappointed scowly frowns. Thanks to our kids.

We are working Mummies who have the luxury of a Thursday off. I use the word luxury with a massive hint of sarcasm as the truth is that it isn’t a day off at all. It’s a day we don’t go into the office. That’s all. We work our arses off looking after our kids and catching up with the mountain of chores that slip further and further from our grasp Friday to Wednesday. Recently we have decided that this is totally shit. So, we made a vow to one another that our day off would be just that. A day to completely immerse ourselves in our children and leave the ironing, washing up and mopping for another day.

We had arranged a fun filled day of aquariums, dinosaurs, ducks, soft play and a spot of lunch. In our heads we envisaged our little darlings laughing and playing, happy and jolly and us all having a rather lovely splendid time. The reality is the pair of little sods threw tantrum after tantrum ALL. EFFING. DAY. At one point we had a throwing themselves on the floor of Marks and Spencer kicking and headbutting episode which personally I actually quite enjoyed as I did it back. Just like that woman in the supermarket on that advert. It didn’t go down too well in M&S seeing as we were right in the middle of the Grannies perusing the Per Una section.

So, we got the screaming banshees home and managed to restrain them in their high chairs long enough to enjoy a well needed latte (we had run out of gin) and an opportunity to take this photo summing up our day.

What we wore today – faces of disappointment, humiliation, a permanent scowl and the realisation that the ironing would’ve been miles more enjoyable.