Oh yes, this morning... a line of six duvet-wrapped sausages on the floor and another on the couch; two went home in the wee small hours because they didn't fit. A night of birthday celebrations and a morning of hangovers.
And this evening, six different teenagers round the kitchen table eating coq au vin prepared by the other Offsprog. I had to float above them close to the ceiling to get upstairs, because there was no squeezing-round space.
It's all a larf, but I'm glad it comes but once a year.