If only Hubby were here to do the washing up...

Hello, sorry it's been a while. Work does keep piling up and I'm not very good at washing up quickly and getting on with it in the evenings. If only Hubby were here to do the washing up. He is so much more efficient at these things than me. Ah well.
At the moment I'm hiding in the office and trying not to think about the Sunday roast dishes and Son's lemon cupcake pots, and the supper plates that need attending to, not to mention the school uniforms that need ironing. Hope there's something good on the radio (please, please not 'In touch' or The Archers) to get me through it all.
Apart from the scary prospect of a whole Sunday evening given over to drudgery, I'm in quite good spirits. I think having a nice snowball fight with the kids might have helped. There is something satisfying about singing 'I am the champion!' as four (yes, four because the neighbours' kids joined in, but Twin 1 was sulking inside because Son had got her a corker with one down the neck) children run screaming down the street from you. Even the recent discovery that Twin 1 has worms (which means all the rest of us probably do as well) hasn't dented my upbeatness (I tried doing that sellotape on the anus test, which was inconclusive, so I resorted to calling out 'Are there any worms up there? Please make yourself known!' up her bottom, and lo, one poked his revolting wriggly head out. Nice.). Perhaps it's because for the first time in several weeks, I'm ahead of myself with work. I've just finished reading a set text and only have one essay to read about it before Tuesday. I know, it's a blooming miracle - and won't last because next week is half term and I'll fall right behind all over again.
It's no good, I keep on thinking about the washing up. I really do have to go and do domestic stuff or I will be ironing until the wee small hours...sorry!
Take care xxx