Girlpants and I are quietly doing the Eurovision this year. There's a bit of leftover mouldy brie, some sausages from the Polish shop, chorizo and pasta (even though Italy didn't quite make it) on a platter on the table, just to get into the spirit. Girlpants has my old pink beret perched on his brow and I've found some clogs that not only look the part, but stink to high heaven and are a pain in the proverbial to wear. Mini-hd is wearing red, white and blue and is blissfully snoring her way through the voting, whilst Sir Lloyd Webber waves the flag for Queen and country and our Graham is salivating his way through the songs.

As did I. And can you blame me?

What people?! I'm married - not dead!