Wall to wall work and then my father thought he'd spice things up by throwing a wee heart attack into the mix.
Not ideal for all concerned.
I'm delighted to report that a couple of hospitals and some heart hardware later he informs me his health status is officially 'A Box of Fluffies'.
I knew the world was returning to normal when I got a text from my sister after he'd just got home, 'Dad is checking his spuds.'
But, being the glorious bastard my father is, do you know what his line is for his mates who he knows will give him stick for potentially being an old bugger?
'At least I've had mine. Yours is coming.'