As with most things spontaneous, it all happened rather quickly. Our friend Wendy called us at about 5 PM on a Wednesday, raving about a play called 'The Elephant Wake' she had seen the previous night. She promised that we would laugh and cry etc. I was intrigued, but knew better than to get my hopes up. I mean, lately, the chances of us being able to plan a night out - let alone do it on a whim - are about as good as seeing an exciting curling match.
But tonight, possibility wafted through the apartment. Dinner was already on the go; Chloe is finally going to bed at around 7; and Kael is not freaked out by the thought of our friends coming over to hang out anymore. We looked at each, a little surprised, and declared,"Hey, we just might be able to pull it off".
We hastily hatched a plan. While the stuffed peppers broiled away in the oven, Michele would take Chloe with her to the grocery store while Kael and I would take Flea out to the park. Meanwhile, Wendy contort herself in positions just painful to look at in her yoga class from 6-7:30 and then pop right over. Easy peasy. Did I mention the play started at 8 o'clock sharp? Ok, it was going to be tight. Though we still had our doubts, we decided to go for it anyway.
I'll spare you the never ending parenting details of picking up, putting away, undressing,brushing, calming down, bathing, dressing, and the rest of the tasks that add up to days of our lives that we'll never get back. The important part is that we got er done in time: Chloe was in bed, Kael bathed and in his pjs, and the dishes washed by 7:45.
But after all that effort, we now had a problem beyond our control: Wendy still hadn't arrived and her phone was off. It took about ten re-dials in a row with no ringing before I accepted that truth. Maybe she was having second thoughts. Maybe the thought of watching Thomas the Train repeatedly for two hours suddenly made her feel ill. Or, maybe her yoga instructor is a real yacker and she was sucked in by the dreaded blabber.. those meditative types can be quite chatty, ya know.
I had to laugh. How ironic that we had actually agreed to it and managed to organize ourselves in time, only for our normally reliable friend to ditch us at the last minute. Michele and I looked at each other from across the room and shrugged: all dressed up (well, at least Michele was) and nowhere to go.
By 7:50, I was ready to slump into the chair, resigned to spending another night like the rest of the last six months; in. That's not to say that I haven't enjoyed the last six months, but there hasn't been a whole lot of different. And tonight had promised to be different. I was actually about to call Wendy something very offensive when Flea suddenly beelined for the door, sniffing madly - a sure sign someone or something is on the deck. I opened the door and there was Wendy, with yoga mat in tow. She apologized, explaining that her phone battery had died. Ok, the truth is that Wendy isn't always that reliable.
Webthrew on our coats on while barking an abridged version of instructions and rushed off to the theatre, which is a convenient two minute walk from our apartment. We arrived just in the nick of time. I'm talking,the-emcee-was-just-about-to-enter-the-room-to-address-the-audience kind of nick of time. Arriving ten seconds later would have meant missing the show. But I guess it was meant to be. We bought our tickets, sat down and the lights dimmed.
Afterwords, we toyed with the idea of indulging in a glass of wine. But visions of Chloe screaming her head off filled our minds and we decided to go back and see if Wendy needed rescuing. And you know what? I didn't even care. I felt fantastic - almost drunk on life - because we had done something spontaneous and out of the ordinary. We had made it out.
You single people may think it's sad (and you'd have a very strong case), but all you parents know that it's all about the small victories.
