Sitting on a stool in our at-home bar, it was a place I’d find myself in most evenings.
Stocked up with plenty of booze, it was an idea that me and my hubby Anthony, 47, came up with.
Walking through the living room, we’d converted the spare room into a bar, which was a hub for entertainment.
We’d decked it out like a man cave, with a sign saying ‘welcome to the mad house’.
Which explained our situation in more ways than one.
With the kids Nicole, now 18, Isabelle, now nine, and Charlotte, now five, ruling the roost, both Anthony and I had fallen into a routine.
He was working long hours as an HGV driver, where I’d get the kids ready for school, before starting my studies in nursing, too.
Meeting back in 2012, in his sister’s salon, Anthony and I hit it off straight away.
