My crazy wife just ran a half marathon.

Then I executed my own impressive feat as I got the kids up, dressed and fed extra early so that we could go in and watch her cross the finish line, with us singing “more daddy!” goddamn nursery rhymes the whole way.

Baby Ginge was in one of those child-carrying backpacks, and D-Girl was on my shoulders.

They had both been instructed to deliver their best “Yay Mummy!” as she finished.

Then as I knelt down to hunt for the snacks the two monkeys had just started demanding, D-Missus passed by, unnoticed, and finished the race.

No A-B-C-D-E-F-ing way!