Alpha and I went on a 'date' tonight. (Yes, with each other... we're not that modern, nor do we live in the 'burbs).
It's a rare thing, the two of us being let out on our own. Usually we reserve precious babysitting time for when we have to go out with other adults, mainly to avoid being considered antisocial. Truth be told, we're mostly happy sitting on the sofa together, scratching our arses, ploughing through a bottle of Sainsbury's own brand Beaujolais (yesh, credit-friendly alcohol works just as well as the fancy stuff) and fighting over the remote control. Gosh, doesn't that paint a pretty picture?
Anyway, so tonight Alpha and I hit the town. Well, not really. Hitting the town is maybe a massive exaggeration. What we actually did was go to the cinema and then the pub. Not especially fancy but pretty exciting for us. But the best bit of the evening was our mode of transport. Yes, we stole our daughters' scooters.
You may think that the sight of two 30-something crinklies careening round the streets of Kensington on bright pink fold-up scooters isn't a pretty sight. And you'd be right. But hell, it was really good fun. In fact, I laughed so much I nearly wee'd my pants.
Who needs Botox when you can regress 25+ years in an instant?
(btw apologies to the bloke I nearly crashed into in the alleyway behind the cinema. I am so sorry. I wasn't trying to mug you, I really wasn't. I'm a bit of a novice at this scooter thing; I now know it's not possible to light a ciggy and steer at the same time. Sorry... sorry... sorry...)