Mums night out (MNO)

I feel like a teenager again, giddy and excited at the prospect of putting on my glittery heels (that I bought two years ago and have never worn), and putting my fat pants on so I can get into my jeans and go on my first night out in a very long time.

I did consider wearing a dress but decided in January it would not be practical and I would freeze to death, so I did the sniff test on my jeans that were on the floor at 8am this morning and they smelt clean so I didn't put any washing on and went about my day.

At 7pm I turned the jeans I had sniffed this morning inside themselves as they were inside out, to discover melted white chocolate all over them. I remembered Scarlett having said white chocolate five days ago and it going all over us both and cursed myself for being lazy earlier today by not putting the washing on.

Contemplated wearing a dress again as my other jeans were all in the wash pile (ok my one other pair), but that would have meant having to have another bath to shave my legs and more importantly the risk of hypothermia is too high.

I sniff tested the jeans on floor/ wash pile that I have been wearing for the past four days, and I didn't crinkle up my nose so approved them for MNO.

I also double checked the mirror for food stains on them and sent my daughter to bed to prevent any accidents.

Panic number two came when I looked in my wardrobe and saw I had nothing to wear over my bra. I'm not being dramatic, my wardrobe consists of black strappy tops and a blue one on the floor.

So I nearly cried and cancelled MNO, but sucked it up, sucked in my belly while praising the inventor of my fat pants (I think the are Gok Wan ones so thanks Gok), put on a black strappy top, green shirt, drank a glass of wine and had a cigarette. Then listened to the rain and drank more wine.

Panic number three came when I looked at diminishing bank account and worked out I could buy a bottle of wine and aim make it last all night, or text my friend and beg her for a loan- the one who is coming without a child.

Then I shouted up the stairs at Scarlett to be quiet, her reply was: 'Where are you going? I want to come.' I then had a ten minute shout up the stairs conversation about why she couldn't come.

I had a debate with myself about putting red lipstick on because I don't want to look like I am trying 'too hard'. I'm nearly ten years older than the 18-year-olds I will encounter tonight and don't want to look like mutton dressed as lamb.

I am now sat here, exhausted and sweating for my MNI. I'm glad it's only once in a while, I couldn't do this very often. Blimey, I must be getting old, where is the wine?

(Too much?)