Folks, yesterday evening Mrs. Angels and I enjoyed an all too rare bit of nooky. The kids were eating their grub and we sneaked up to the bedroom for a swifty.
As is usually the case, shortly after we'd finished I fell asleep. The wife did as well.
I was awoken by my son shaking me. 'Daddy it's nearly seven o'clock'.
Oh my God. I'm late. I can't believe I've overslept. I have to be in work at 0630. Befuddled, I fling on some clothes, grab my coat and rush into the stygian gloom of south-east London, already making up excuses for my late arrival at work.
I get to the newsagents and buy my paper. It's the same as 'yesterday'. The penny drops.
It is seven in the evening the same day.
I wander back and am roundly laughed at by the entire family.
PLEASE someone else tell me they've been the victim of post-coital nuttiness.....