Home Alone

You would think having the house to ourselves for this first time in nearly 10 years would send us into a state of romance seen only on The Bachelor. Fighting urges and desires that our former honeymoon selves would be proud of.

Nope. The only urge was to clean the house and keep it that way for more than 20minutes. And a desire to sleep. Undisturbed.

My boys are off on camp. The two of them away together for the first time. We have never had more than one night away from them since they were born.

Now we have the house to ourselves for 4 days and 3 glorious nights. Happy days.

They left on a Tuesday. I messaged my wife during the day. Wine at 6. Taxi at 7.

Channelling Tom Cruise I slide across the floor in nothing more than undies, socks and a pretend microphone. Music pumped. I crack open the wine.

It would have been easy to stay at home. But we made the effort. We ventured into the unknown. They call it The City.

It takes regular internal dialogue to remind myself there is no rush. To slow down. No babysitter. No bookings. No time pressure.

I shower. With hot water. My towel is still there. I lie down to rest. I am not disturbed by a fast and furious chase over me. I use my toilet. It is clean. No surprises winking up at me. I smile at the small pleasures.

We sit on the couch. Looking at each other in silence. Unnerving. I see the TV remote. Should I touch it? Will I remember how to use it?

The taxi arrives. We head off and have, what turns out to be, a brilliant night. We got smashed. Staggered around. Chatted. Laughed. And realised that we actually did quite like each other.

Asking the taxi driver to stop at the ATM on the way home so I could withdraw money for the babysitter was a pleasant blunder.

Forgetting to take my keys out was not.

We had such a good time that we both cancelled our plans for the following evening and did the same thing again.

It was good to have some quality time together. To reacquaint. Bond. They say the time with your children goes quickly and to cherish each moment. You miss it when it’s gone. But after these few days and nights I can’t see me missing it too much. Perhaps it was just the novelty. That living for months in a quiet and clean house would be too much to bear. Time will tell.

Our 4 days and 3 nights passed quickly. No arguments. No shouting. Only discussion and conversation. Compromises and smiles.

We picked the boys up on Friday at 530pm.

By 930pm stress levels had increased to the usual level. Bedtime routines returned to over tired and wired children.

It was good to have them back. But I have to admit, as I lay down next to one of them, and drifted off in my own daydream, that I was back in the city. Drinking my 5th mojito. A trip to Thailand just around the corner.

Just the Mrs and I.

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