Last night BabyDaddy and I went out! At night! With no toddler!
On Wednesday it was our fourth wedding anniversary so we decided to celebrate with a meal in a new restaurant. It just so happened that Patrick Monahan, who I’ve seen six or seven times before and absolutely love, was performing at a venue near us so we booked that too.
The restaurant turned out to be absolutely fantastic. The food was amazing and the service was great, but the best part was talking about when we met and just remembering who we were before we were parents.
We can’t imagine ever wanting to go back to that time. I love my messy house. Of course I wish there was a fairy to come and look after it for me – there are always crumbs scattered across the living room floor and there are chocolate fingerprints on *everything* – but this is the life I wanted. I have never wanted anything more than a family and if toy-explosions are the price I have to pay I couldn’t care less.
After the meal we walked to the theatre for the comedy show, only to be told that the acts hadn’t turned up yet so they might have to cancel. Hot, pregnant and tired, I must admit that part of me thought, “I’ll be able to go to bed by 9!” but I was really pleased when we were told we could go in ten minutes later.
The first act, Tom Wrigglesworth, was really good. He was ironing out the kinks in his Edinburgh set and asking for our opinions on certain sections. It was a really emotive set and I wanted to laugh and cry in equal measure. Tom’s show was very poetic and completely enthralling. It was impossible not to get caught up in his tales of a man I have no doubt was a hero and to revel in his love of the English language. I think his show will do really well in Edinburgh and I’m disappointed that I won’t be able to see it in its finished form, although it might be for the best in my current hormonal state.
Then came Patrick. I’ve never seen him do a full set before so it was a real treat. One day I might even see him finish a set, although I doubt it! There’s no other comedian who can go from cake sticks to law to sheep wrestling and find that none of it was in their original script. There just is no other comedian – or person – like Patrick. He’s like a hyperactive child on Smarties, but with a penchant for hugs and an infectious giggle. I was hugged by Patrick at least five times last night and he gave us all a lesson in the correct hug etiquette. He also gave us Bollywood dancing lessons, although I’ll admit I haven’t tried them out. I’m not sure my belly would allow it.
I’d only had an hour and a half from getting home from work to having to leave so I hadn’t washed my hair, and I don’t have anything nice to wear that fits me, but it was so hot I decided I didn’t care. Of course I care now I’ve seen the state of me in that photo, but if being seven months pregnant in July doesn’t give you the right to give up I don’t know what does.
Both acts overran and as they’d started late in the first place we didn’t get out of the theatre until after ten thirty. It was still so hot my skin felt clammy in just a vest and by the time we’d walked up the hill we live at the top of I was so ready to collapse. However, once my Mum had been discharged from her babysitting duties and I’d stripped down to my pants I decided there was still time to watch Corrie.
It may have been very different from the kind of nights out we had six or seven years ago, but it was perfect to me. I spent the evening with my best friend and I came home to take a peek at my little man snoozing.
This is the life.