You are invited to a friend’s party, you both look at each other and soon realise this could be an opportunity to ask grandparents to see whether they could look after baby for a few hours, whilst we both have a few hours to ourselves to spend some quality time together without baby.

The deal has been confirmed – we take baby to grandparents’ house prior to attending the party.

A night off from parenting duties means a few hours of: Not changing nappies; not saying, ‘no’ every 47 seconds; not tripping over Peppa Pig toys; not getting the high-chair out from the cupboard every couple of hours; not putting the high-chair back into the cupboard; not tripping over musical books; not singing Row Row Row The Boat; not making a cup of tea to subsequently forget you made it; not wiping snot from baby’s face; not seeing them smile at you attempting to pull silly faces; not complaining of a bad back; not talking in a baby language; not playing Peekaboo with a Hello magazine; not picking them up when they are about to pick up and damage a photo frame of your wedding day; not feeding baby a banana; not sterilising bottles; not hearing baby giggle hysterically when daddy makes silly noises; not trying and failing to eat some lunch whilst baby is also eating lunch; not picking baby up to show them their reflection in the mirror; not saying, ‘wave’; not tidying up their devastation; and, not saying, ‘clap’.

We attend party. A rare opportunity to rekindle; an opportunity to temporarily forget about being parents. After all, we were dressed as Smurfs. Yes, Smurfs. We turn up at the door eagerly anticipating a few alcoholic beverages and a good time with friends.

First thing wife does after greeting everybody? Picks up someone else ‘s
baby.

The end.

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