In the 31 and a half months Pal and I have officially been parents, we have left our children very rarely. There was no particular reason, other than we didn’t feel the need. We left Roo with my mother when she was 9 months old to go to a movie. Roo slept the whole time and only wailed when I arrived home. I didn’t count this as a date because we were sitting in the dark, not speaking.
We used to leave Roo with My Bestie Amelia for some of the scans and appointments we had for the twins, but once again, waiting in a medical clinic for someone to tell you that the babies look fine and to come back in two weeks isn’t particularly date material.
And then once, when the boys were about three months old, Pal and I left all the children with my mother to go and do some grocery shopping. Also not date material.
Last night, Pal and I went on what I consider to be a “proper” date. Sure, it was his work Christmas in July management party. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a date. It means it was a FREE date, seeing as they paid for our meals, and more excitedly, our drinks!
I had something to wear (amazing, I know), I had my hair and make up done (by myself, in the bathroom, with no one yelling at me through the bathroom door. I threw their dinner at them and ran). Rory even let me borrow her shoes, which was incredibly kind of her.
“My shoes. RORY’S SHOES! Not Mummy’s. Mine!”
“Oh, well, can I borrow them?”
“OK Mum, you wear Rory’s shoes.”
|Using shoes as a seat – ingenuity.|
“It’s a bit rude to text at the table, don’t you think?” said my former boss.
“Oh, I wasn’t texting, I was on Twitter.”
“Hey, here’s a picture of the twins today!”
“Ohhhh, aren’t they cute!”
Like a moth to a flame.