Friday, August 27, 2010
Friday Night Special
On my way to collect The Youth this afternoon, a travelling compadre of mine suggested that Fridays were an excellent excuse for a glass of wine with dinner. FRIDAYS, I guffawed, drawing only polite tittering from the entourage. FRIDAYS are when you really let loose. I extoled the merits of a glass with every evening meal in which children were involved. More polite smiles. And then expanded on the benefits of two glasses on a Friday night whilst some other sucker took the heat for a couple of hours. A few more whimsical looks. And that's when the chasm opened, when I realised that there are two types of mothers: 'Sensible' mothers, and 'Those Who Can't Actually Believe They're in Charge of Minors' mothers. Quite clearly, I fall into the latter category. The contenders for the former then began to talk about how bath time was a good juncture at which to pour a glass of Chardonnary. Bath Time. Are there really children out there who bathe EVERY day? Is this natural? Surely it can't be good for their delicate skin. What a hideous waste of time and water. A good spruce down in a communal shower once a week is good enough, isn't it? The chasm was now a bona fide crater. I bid my farewells and collected my dirty child from pre-school, flicking bits of last night's honey soy salmon out of her hair as we moved on to pick up her grotty brother and sister. And as we all walked home together through the park we made a pact that we wouldn't discuss our drinking or bathing habits in mixed company ever again. Later, we consulted Cicero who confirmed for us that "diseases of the soul are more dangerous and numerous than those of the body," and we felt vindicated. Pass the Pinot.