Sometimes you just have to laugh.

I am a little below par, not sure what the deal is apart from jippy tummy, aching bones and a foul disposition.
The boys were weary and so bathed and ready for bed, having stayed up a little late to watch the X factor, it became obvious that, unlike most evenings, H was not going to take them up and read a story or 12 with them. So engrossed was he in whatever the latest project is.
I hoiked myself out of my chair and told them I would read them some Mrs Pepperpot, if they were quick, hurry up.
They were quick and hurried up and all was looking pretty good until Isaac ( must do it all correctly every time, don't cut corners or the sky will fall in) realised that no-one had carried the lantern up, oh no.
Never mind, we have a little lamp, that is fine...no it's not, oh no, wheres the lantern because I can't have the lamp because ( who knows why I didn't just tell him to go and get the damn lantern but sometimes, when your bowels are cramping and your bum cheeks are aching from all the clenching, well common sense leaves and the obvious solution isn't obvious) Right, get mummy's torch, that's always a great 2nd best....dither, dawdle whine slump.

SNAP. That was the sound of my last scrap of patience. Get the torch myself, sit down and begin...

Mrs Pepperpot noticed that her well had dried up, oh no how would she boil her potatoes and wash her dishes and have a nice cup of coffee? Nothing for it but to put on her heavy overcoat, take a bucket and a shovel and walk through the snow to try and clear the path to the well and....
" Well, what the hell?? " said mummy ( not Mrs Pepperpot because she would never utter such coarse and irritable sentiments) "where's her husband while she's doing all this? She's an old lady for heaven's sake, she doesn't have enough to do with all that potato boiling and washing dishes? Her husband should be doing the digging and fixing of wells but I suppose he's too busy doing some important stuff on his laptop "
As she was digging the snow....well if a moose didn't come and ram into her..she had to go and get a gun and try and scare it off , which didn't work and then she shrunk ( to the size of a pepperpot, of course) All was well as she somehow managed to scare the life out of the moose by hanging from his antlers in a bucket, that old moose went back to his own field and Mrs Pepperpot was able to dig and boil water in time for her husbands dinner, phew thank goodness for that. ( Heaven forbid he should have to heat up a can of Curry from Lidl and feed himself)
By this time I had read and muttered myself completely out of my bad temper and three little boys were asleep having hopefully grasped a message that if your wife is cooking and cleaning and even making you Bramble Jelly ( with ingredients she has picked herself, because said husband was sad that the pile of pancakes she made him were lacking something, what am I READING these boys? Good thing is, tiny woman always wins in the end, triumphs over every adversity, Go Mrs P!) it would be expected that you might get out and dig the damn snow and fight off the odd marauding moose, thankyou.