This past Saturday some girlfriends and I went out to celebrate the upcoming marriage of one of our friends. The occasion just on its own would have been fun enough but, for a mommy of a toddler, it meant so much more.
I have become quite domesticated and love spending weekend evenings at home with Hubby the Great and The Wee Man. It’s nice to open a bottle of wine and watch a movie after we’ve put the baby to bed. But, sometimes, a girl needs to get glammed up and go out without husband and child.
I get to put on clothes that haven’t been out of my closet in ages (think silk blouse and high heels) and I get really excited when I can take a purse that doesn’t need to be filled with diapers, wipes, and an emergency supply of Cheerios.
So I made my way downtown to a restaurant that I would never have taken a child to and got ready to enjoy this rare experience.
This particular establishment is unique in that it transforms from restaurant into a nightclub around 10:30 p.m. Just as well that we had no intention of sticking around after it morphed into Ottawa’s hot nightspot because we got a good look at the clubgoers pouring in just as we were finishing our meal and suddenly felt Oh. So. Old. (I suppose I am old when I’m referencing The Bay City Rollers in the post title, but still…)
We had a lot of fun but I think we left at just exactly the right time. No one needs to be reminded that 20 years old was a long, long time ago.
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