Realization

I just had an epiphany. It was like when Dr House does something seemingly random, and looks up, and the music lets you know that he's solved the case. I realised that I can go to Target, or Safeway, or any shop not too far away AFTER THE KIDS ARE IN BED. Genius.

Honestly. You'd think I would have remembered that I don't live in Ireland any more, where everything closes at six p.m. except on Thursdays when they stay open till eight; and even at that, more and more supermarkets, or "corner shops" like Spar and Centra that will charge you an arm and a leg and a middle digit but sell everything you could possibly want, including wine and beer, stay open till all hours these days. Safeway is open till midnight. Target probably as long. My husband used to go to Wal-Mart at three in the morning, before I moved in and instigated proper mealtimes and put an end to that sort of nonsense. The fact that our local co-op supermarket closes at 6 on Sundays often catches me unawares and elicits profanity when I really fancied a bottle of wine with dinner.

And yet. There I was trying to figure out when in our busy life I would get to those places to pick up birthday-cake ingredients and goodie-bag stuffers before Sunday's super-duper-birthday-party extravaganza (a giant playdate with cake for everyone and beer for grown-ups, and leaves to jump in; Chucky Cheese, eat your heart out), and bemoaning the fact that probably I'd have to drag both children there tomorrow afternoon, and I had totally forgotten to factor in the possibility of using the evenings.

So yay. If you're looking for me after bedtime tomorrow, I will not be glued to the sofa, quizzing myself on the countries of Africa at Sporcle while re-watching an episode of Angel. I will be out with the grown-up people in the outside in the dark, spending money on stuff we need. (I use the term loosely.)

This may be a dangerous development.