Keith and I have been off in the big city celebrating our birthdays.(He's my toy boy for another two weeks.) It was a top night out, and more than a little fancy-of-the-pants. I wore red lipstick and dangly earrings, and my handbag contained no sultanas.
Courtesy of a friend who works for the Belvoir St Theatre, we scored some tix to see Benedict Andrew's super-mod version of Measure For Measure.
We had much 5-star fun in the Sofitel. Cognac and apple martinis while inventing tales about odd characters in the bar. Ooh la la.
Looking for a late-night coffee shop, we stumbled across Rockpool instead. Dessert and coffee, Masterchef style. This here is a pecan doughnut number with an apple sundae side manoeuvre. Yes thank you.
This morning, newspapers in bed followed by Eggs Benedict in our old Summer Hill haunt.
We're home now. Keith raced off to soccer the minute we hit the driveway, Teddy greeted me with a career-best in the Stinky Poo Olympics, and Ivy had covered the big issues with Nanna and Pop. 'If Mummy dies, and Teddy dies, and Daddy dies, can I come and live at your house?'
Thanks to Mum and Dad again, for best the Best Babysitters Eva. To the kiddoes, for being so well-behaved. And to Keith for being such a damn hot date!