In a haze of that-was-really-nice-wasn't-it-maybe-things-are-getting-better we agreed to go over on NYD for crepes.
After all these years I should know better - but apparently I don't because I drank a lot before I went.
Lots of tea & water + my small bladder = 3 trips of the washroom
On the third I opened the door to find my MIL standing right in the front of the door waiting to ask 'Is your bladder no good?'
Argh.
