What a wild Friday night I had this weekend.
It started with a two-course dinner out with friends, progressed to some emphatic screeching and dancing before downing a pint and ending up face down on the carpet.
The story is all in the telling so I should desist adding in the finer detail and not reveal the truth of my Friday night but I can’t help myself.
The dinner out was at the Zone soft play in Cardiff which ended up on the floor and splattered over my friend’s shoe in favour of a slice of cold toast. Of course it had to be some nice smelly fish. Wet wipes to the rescue. Once home and bathed, we played chase the wet baby with a hairdryer while we danced around the bedroom. Obviously the drink downing was milk. All was going reasonably well before we entered the nursery and were hit with a powerful odour. The last day or so I’d thought baby had woken with a dirty nappy and each time was surprised to find out that I was mistaken. But the smell had become stronger – so much so that we were convinced that there was a nasty surprise hiding from us somewhere in the room.
And so the ‘hunt the poo’ treasure hunt began. We scoured every corner, tearing the room apart. At first we imagined it was a rogue nappy that had escaped being binned (no doubt by a grandparent – it couldn’t possibly be our fault). Then our thoughts turned to baby’s nappy free time – and if there was a little present she’d left for us! But the hunt proved fruitless. So there was only one thing for it. I got down on all fours and sniffed every square inch of the carpet. Suddenly, I found the source – a rather crusty patch of carpet which looked like an old milk spill that had turned sour and caused an unnecessarily stinky stench. I was jubilant at my triumph. Then I realised what a loser I was.
The first version of my Friday night may actually have been more representative of reality a few years back. Now, things are much different. I don’t mind of course and now that the baby actually goes to bed, we can still have an enjoyable evening – usually revolving around nice food and wine. But the old me would definitely agree about my loser status when it comes to carpet sniffing.
I’m eager to be reassured that I’m not alone in my new weekend antics – so let me know about your wild post-baby nights in the comments below….