At the moment I seem to be on this perpetual quest for Things To Do And Enjoy That Aren't At The Whim Of My Small Children. Sensible {not always} Grownup Things.
Plans are being made for a night away for my birthday, a girl's night mid-year to go to a cabaret show, I'm about to embark on a master's degree, and am going along to a parenting program the kindy is running...okay, let's be honest: I'm happy when I can go to the supermarket alone. The option to buy toilet paper on my own? Hooray for me!
To kick-start the whole shebang I arranged dinner with a girlfriend, at a nice little restaurant just over half an hour away. With a booking time of 7pm. Due to the fact that every Saturday I'm now in the car at 8am to deliver a small girl to ballet lessons, and that Shan was headed off on a boy's weekend the following day, it wasn't to be a late night- moreso a little escape for a few hours.
So, dinner was cooked and placed on the table, before I showered, dressed, and did hair and makeup in record time. And off I went.
While a girlfriend and I were waiting {and waiting.....and waiting....} for our mains, I received a phone call. From Shan. That Scarley was vomiting. We eventually were served our mains {an hour and fifteen minutes later}, and lingered for a little while before coming home. Back to reality. Wearing the ridiculously expensive dress I'd bought for an interview, and the ridiculously expensive eyeliner that is still quite possibly fused to my eyelids....I proceeded to do what is perhaps the Most Sensible Grownup Thing Of All.
Calmly, and soothingly strip sheets, start the washing machine, and give an upset child a lovely warm bath....all while covered in their projectile vomit.
Nothing says motherhood quite like that, does it now?
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