It’s late on a Friday. By all means, stay for a glass of wine after babysitting. If there are two of you and a gaggle of proper grown ups, so much the better.
Have a few drinks. Eat some pate. Dance if you feel like it. Chat to Bertie, the man, the legend. Tell people how cool their kids are. Eat the most melted Brie in the world. Locate the beer. Lie about where you got your skirt from. Enjoy all the songs that people put on for you and the awesome that is Siobhan “Because you’re YOUNG!!!!!”
All of that is good. All of that is fine.
However, when you get in at half-past three Saturday morning, DO NOT call people.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Siobhan and I did a *little* tipsydialling yesterday morning. I haven’t done that in ages. Somewhat crazily, we both also forgot that we had done the calling….until Tim texted us to see how we were and let us know he couldn’t pick up the voicemail we’d left him.
Boys, I’m sorry. Especially the boy who I called who had to get up at four. I am a bad Claire.
In other news, sometimes this blog just writes itself, I swear.