Saturday Night

The other half and I went out tonight for the first time in at least half a year. There was nothing on at the cinema at an appropriate time (not too early, before the kids’ bedtime and not too late) and we both always seem to resent going out to eat only to pay a small fortune for food that doesn’t measure up to what we he could cook at home. So we went to the pub. Somehow though, Saturday nights post-kids are not what they used to be.

Saturday night before kids vs after kids:

Before kids: spend 1-2 hours getting ready, drinking alcoholic beverage of choice with music cranked loud. Apply make-up; try on different outfits; straighten hair.

After kids: feed the baby and read stories to the older one. Settle both in bed before choosing to wear outfit have worn all day because it beats trying to find a new outfit in the dark. Check top has no baby sick on it; creep around silently to avoid waking the baby; don’t bother with hair or make-up because a) it would take away from the going out time and b) I really don’t care.

Before kids: either get dinner out or limit food intake to maximise alcohol effectiveness.

After kids: eat microwaved leftovers at 5.30pm. Contemplate going somewhere just for dessert but settle on shop-bought mini Kinder eggs because it’s cheaper and then later get McDonalds fries because breastfeeding = constantly hungry.

Before kids: go out at 10pm

After kids: go home at 10.45pm

Before kids: double shots; single shots; cocktails; beer.

After kids: one beer because breastfeeding and also because kids wake up at 7am. If we had hangovers it would be 6am by the same logic that M sleeps in on nursery days and it up at the crack of dawn on weekends.

Before kids: go home and make out.

After kids: go home and hide Easter eggs, lock the dog in the kitchen away from the chocolate and put the baby to bed again.

Happy Saturday!

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Published by

Burnt Supper

British/American, postgraduate, wife, mother, dog-owner

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