Friday, 2 December 2011


I mentioned yesterday how The Husband and me had got to thinking about how having children had, on more than one occasion, led us to being ‘trapped’ in a room.  This thinking was sparked off whilst attending two of The Friends wedding celebrations last weekend when I, in effect, became ‘trapped’ for most of the day with The (sleeping) Baby away from the wedding party.

Our main ‘trapped in a room’ situations tend to occur in the hotel ‘family room’. When staying in hotels, as is the way of many families, we reside in a ‘family room’.  This basically means that we all share a room together. This makes sense both practically and financially.  The thing is, The Husband and me don’t always want to go to bed at the same time as The Seven Year Old and The Baby which is tricky when you’re all in the one room.  Especially when you have a Seven Year Old who likes it to be quiet and dark to go to sleep and a Baby who doesn’t’. 

There was one occasion a couple of years ago, in the days when The Baby was merely a distant thought in our minds.  It was our first trip to Legoland in Windsor (now an annual event) and the Seven Year Old had just turned five. We were staying in a lovely hotel in the centre of Windsor, just by the river.  On the two nights we stayed there, in order to create the ultimate sleeping conditions for the then Five Year Old, and not ready to sleep yet ourselves, me and The Husband found ourselves holed up in the bathroom with the weekend newspapers and a bottle of Rioja.  It made us giggle.  It felt a little as if we were teenagers trying to keep the alcohol a secret from The Parents.

On another occasion only last year at another of The Friends wedding’s when The Husband was (again) Best Man - I’m considering renting him out for the job now that he’s had some practise - The Seven Year Old (then six) was so tired in the early evening that we had to excuse ourselves from the reception and find a room to let him have a nap.  The staff at the venue very kindly allowed us to use a massive conference room situated above the wedding party.  It was huge!  The Seven Year Old slept in a corner using The Husbands jacket for a pillow and my cardigan as a cover whilst me and The Husband sipped our way through a bottle of champagne and danced around the room - which took some time as there was a lot of floor space to cover.

Hmm…I see a theme developing here.  I’m beginning to wonder if me and The Husband are sub-consciously manufacturing these situations as an excuse to feel like we’re returning to the heady teenage years of drinking on the sly.  Mind you, we wouldn't have been drinking Rioja and champagne back then... speaking for myself it was more cheap and nasty cider as I recall.  And a girl has limits in terms of reminiscing.    

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