So the party is over, writes Tracey O’Sullivan.  Well, it certainly was in our house as I cheerfully tried to lift the mood with a rousing “Germanee, Germanee, Germanee” to the strains of the Engerland chant in the dying minutes of the game.

Well, I did draw Germany in the office sweep so it was only fair. My 18-month-old loved it and started dancing around the living room. He Who Knows – not so much.

No it wasn’t quite the reaction as I was hoping for, but, then again, my other half has a reputation for not taking England defeats in his stride.

It’s why we don’t, under any circumstances, host match barbecues these days.

The text from his golfing buddy just minutes after that disallowed Lampard goal summed it up – “How long before you throw everyone out – the family can stay at ours”.

The signs were there from early afternoon as hubbie picked a silly quarrel over something and nothing. “What’s that on the stairs, does it live on stairs?”

Normally I would tell him where to shove the pile of folded clothes, mostly his, waiting to be taken to the bedroom but I just calmly side-stepped the grenade he had just launched knowing it was triggered by the anxious mix of hope and dread of the inevitable heartbreak to come.

So we were all on tenterhooks and to be honest even Noah, who at ten years old has surprised his father with a distinct lack of interest in the beautiful game, was hoping today would be the day his Daddy would get his wish.

And I think he did – sort of. I’m sure he would have swapped it for a place in the quarter finals in a heartbeat but I think it was a match he could finally watch without the resulting fallout of defeat.

He was most definitely gutted but the grieving was brief and the recovery swift.

Now a survey carried out at Telford Shopping Centre recently revealed that more than 50 per cent of fans would rather watch England in the final with their mates than their wives and family, but I am going to throw something out there – think again.

There’s something to be said for watching with those who dull the devastation at the final whistle.

I could share in his rants at the ref after the goal that was so far over the line it couldn’t be missed was not given. Unbelievable, just unbelievable.  Tip for all football widows – start reading out Twitter and Facebook updates when the agony starts to intensify. It’s a very funny way to ease the tension. It worked yesterday. And the boys definitely took He Who Knows’s eye off the ball during the second half with an amusing game of catch the marshmallow in your mouth. The toddler was repeating “it in” all afternoon.

I now know it’s not just a game and it takes dedication and devotion to love it as much as fans do, but for the life of me I don’t know why they do this to themselves every four years. I understand it’s a massive disappointment when they are let down once again but there’s always a bright side. Try watching it with the family rather than those who wallow in the let-down and they might just find that out. Or and this could be the ultimate red card to the bullish England fan, but what putting those eggs in a few different baskets?

My hubbie may not agree but my World Cup is still alive and kicking. While he lamented how much less fun the Argentina versus Mexico game was without the incentive of seeing who England were going to play in the quarter-finals, I was still intrigued as I continue to have a stake in it. A cash stake at that, with winnings up for grabs.

After yesterday’s 4-1 victory my boys look good. Today I’m just wondering how long He Who Knows needs to truly get over it before I launch my next mission: To convince him we could still have a great World Cup final party to look forward to. The boot is most definitely on the other foot as I could be the one now begging to keep watching.