I must be the only middle aged women who could buy a dress, wear it to an important function, and only realise afterwards that it has actual w*llies on it. Seriously. And I bought it in a proper grown up lady boutique. I suppose I should have wondered why the sale price was so low...
(apologies for all the asterisks, I'm trying to fool the spammers)
I only discovered the w*llies when I got out the dress to wear on a rerun of a rather special women's night in. But I wore it anyway, as I don't own any other posh frocks, and the other guests seemed to find it entertaining. Phew!
The third outing for the p*nis dress was last night, at a very special book launch.
Special because the author is one of the friends I made some twenty years ago in Dublin when I began my journey as a Mum, and it's about therapeutic writing, so I'm interested to find out if that is similar to blogging. Special because it was being launched on a Friday night in Galway and I would have to be back to put my son to bed and couldn't leave Dublin until I'd toileted my daughter. And special because the other two mums in our group said they would come too. So you know what that means?
A road trip.
Romantic notions swirled around my head of sunshine, and tousled hair, elbows out the windows and singing along to Sheryl Crow. Or something. Instead it was a very frazzled fifty-something Mum who collected her friends at 4pm on a Friday evening as the clouds started to pile up in the west, where we were headed.
But I needn't have felt anxious. With friends you've known so long, that you don't see so often, the conversation just happens. The music was switched off after the second song, and the five hours of driving just flew by. Helped by lots of coffee and chocolate of course.
The book was launched with readings by some of the contributors, and we listened and watched as the sun went down over Lough Corrib, and felt so proud of our friend and so happy that we'd made it. Then there were photos to be taken, and promises made to meet again soon, and suddenly it was a time for a farewell hug and back to the car for the long journey home.
I often have to say no, I shouldn't wear this, I can't do that, I can't go there. So it was really life affirming to be able to say "yes".
Yes, I can wear this, I can do that, I can go there.
And I did.
Finally I just have to say thanks to my wonderful babysitters, especially my daughter Angel, without whom this trip would not have been possible.
Another way of looking at it.... - Today I was explaining to my lovely colleague about mr auntiegwen and myself's upcoming jollity to Latvia, and I uttered one of my most favourite sentence...