The Orangatanned Man

I can feel my patience ebbing away. I'm trying hard to find my supermum smile but failing miserably. I just want to curl up in a hole somewhere with a duvet and a hot chocolate and get lost in romantic novels.

As I drive along the A57 at 2 miles an hour, regretting the second cuppa that is now sat heavily in my bladder; the rain hammering down, the screams from my toddler hammering on my ear drum and the incessant chat of my 4 year old. "Mummy did you see that sign? Read more