It is eleven o' clock. Already? How did that happen?

Could it be that l was having so much fun printing out pics of Sunderland for Wednesday's class on regional accents, or finally washing the breakfast plates, or making jam from the last of the blackberries, or perhaps finding the CD of Twin 2s MRI to take in for her school topic on brains, or even because l was putting washing in the machine or taking washing out of the dryer or making Son a packed Iunch for his school trip, or feeding the rat, or putting homework up on my class facebook page, or writing out the dinner money cheque or ensuring that the tooth fairy remembered to visit Twin 1,  that the evening just flitted past without so much as a backward glance?

Or could it be that I've just lost myself in hours of passion with George Clooney
who turned up out of the blue with a bottle of champagne and a note from my husband to say that he was prepared to overlook a marital transgession in this particular instance?

Nope, it was the first one.