An old friend came to town for the New Year. For some reason, none of his more sociable friends are in town, so he decided to spend New Year's Eve with us.
He's known me since I was a that thirty-something party animal with mostly male friends and a weakness for much younger men. So I hoped he wasn't disappointed when I told him that the boy and I weren't planning on seeing in the New Year with bubbles, dancing and a crowd of drunken strangers.
In the end though, it was great catching up with him - it's been a few years since he took off on his big OE and became the darling of Essex's female population. But it was only 9.30pm when I offered to drive him home (the boy was indulging in a feisty red wine and was therefore ineligible) so I could get to bed at a decent time.
And so I didn't get to say "Hey" to the New Year - at least, not until around 6am this morning when The Little Madam's siren wails rudely disturbed my sleep.
I think this year I will break my long-lasting policy of not making New Year's resolutions. This year I resolve to get myself into shape. Not necessarily great shape, even a so-so shape will suffice for now. I just refuse to permanently become an Asian version of the "fat Italian mama" stereotype.