Saturday, 10 November 2012

How times have changed

The Saturday night before Halloween, Steve went out. He put on real going out clothes, spritzed himself with aftershave and headed into town for the evening.

Me and the baby went to my mum's where we played with everyone and watched the Muppets. If I had been able to have a glass of wine then my evening would have definitely beaten his.

Anyway, around midnight I packed up Rex and our things and bundled him in the car to go home. He was crying, he was tired and cranky. Knowing that a drive in the car very often sends him to sleep, I decided to text Steve and offer to pick him up from wherever he may be.

What can I say, I was feeling brave and daring. In my head I was superwoman with real powers. I mean, I can produce milk to feed a baby so I was obviously capable of driving into town and collecting a tipsy husband.

We set off. All was going well. The baby went to sleep, the roads were clear and, before I knew it, I was turning into the city centre.

It was as I was dodging the drunk people who were falling into the road as the pubs kicked out that the baby woke up. Realising that it was dark and he was not being cuddled or fed, he started to wail. Loudly.

The traffic lights turned red and I stopped. Locking doors so that Halloween revellers couldn't try and get in, I started singing his favourite song 'Joshua Giraffe' at the top of my lungs. His wailing grew louder.

The lights turned green just as I got to the line about Joshua being trapped in a zoo with buffalo poo.

I pulled up on a side road, just by the club that Steve said he was in. I clambered into the back seat to try and comfort the baby while texting Steve to say we were here. He replied saying that they would be 10 minutes.

The baby would not be comforted so I did what has come to be the solution to many problems.

I got my boobs out.

Yep, I decided to feed Mr Rex to shut him up.

So there I was, in the back seat of my car, feeding my 8 week old son at quarter to one in the morning, occasionally being stared at by passing witches, skeletons and bunnies (I know, I was confused too, why would you be a bunny for Halloween?).

It took Steve and his friend Mike another 20 minutes to find us and then I had the fun of driving them home while Mike cooed over the baby in the back.

Damn, I'm a good wife.

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