Well, I had some Big Grownup Fun this weekend. In a bar. Where they serve (shhhh!) -- alcohol! In glasses! Made of glass! And the only other people there were other grownups! And my husband, whose name, as it turns out, is not "Daddy"!
Like those sweet young innocents of yore, or of cheesy movies, we stayed out 'til ten o'clock.
We had a wonderful time, and got to see some dear friends. We laughed and shared stories, and cussed freely, and felt like sane adults for a brief, shining moment. The kids, although both recovering from nasty colds, were both fever-free and in the capable hands of an experienced and loving nanny. They were both blissfully asleep when we got home.
So why do I feel so guilty?