Shock, horror! Last night I went to a party alone (The Little Madam and the boy stayed home) and didn't get home until after midnight! Although I must admit that the last half hour I was at the party, was spent waiting for friends to decide whether they needed me to give them a lift home or not.
Still though, I went to a party. On my own. All dressed-up and made-up and everything.
Though I didn't drink at all, and about 70% of my conversation was about kids.
Does it still count?
A big bonus to being present at this little birthday bash, was that the art-loving hosts own several works of mine.
Yep, these guys actually paid good money to possess and display some of my paintings and prints. Some of the other guests even uttered ego-stroking remarks about the prints, while the drunker ones examined the nude and wondered out loud whether it was a self portrait (to which I hastened to reply that I'd painted it before I had a child so it would be impossible to compare it to my present figure, and in any case how the hell does one paint a self portrait of one's back?)
Of course, all this fun would have been impossible for me if it hadn't been for the boy's willingness to perform babysitting duties.