How disappointing

[therealpm]

I did hope that my comments at last week's dinner might have encouraged our frontbench to be slightly better at dissecting Osborne's populist shambles of a budget (endured in the midst of some very dubious company). It is therefore somewhat disappointing to note that the Tories were savaged more effectively by their own leadership than by ours, a situation likely to become only more frequent with Mr Miliband's lamentable departure.

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[therealpm]

*Peter groans inwardly. He can't leave now though, not when John's just topped up his drink. It would be rude.

As he seats himself once more on the sofa, they hear the soft thunder of tiny feet dashing from one bedroom to another. Peter strains his ears, but he cannot hear the hushed discussion that he know must be being whispered between the children right now. He drinks some of the wine.*

[bamfbercow]

*John is about to attempt conversation again, when he hears the door open and Sally call through. John glances quickly at Peter to make sure he's not going to make a run for it when Sally arrives.*

*Sally walks into the room, drops her bag by the door and starts talking about her day. She turns towards the sofa, looks at them and falls silent. John will never know how she does it, but he will forever be grateful for Sally's ability to see the obvious and cut right to the point.*

*"What's happened?" she says. When neither of them answer quickly enough, she walks right over to the sofa and pulls them both into a hug and demands to know what happened.*

Gah- Sally! The wine-!

[therealpm]

*Peter just looks ruefully at his multi-beverage splattered trousers and wonders whether to dispense with dry cleaning and just go straight to the tailor's tomorrow.*