Wednesday 17th August 2016
Happiness is…getting a night out with the gals and leaving the baby in the capable hands of your own Mumma. Tonight was just that: dinner with my Dubai crew dressed up and feeling fresh while Kingsley got his JiaJia Dôra all to himself.
Believe me: a night out makes me a chirpier woman and no doubt easier to be around for those who are closest to me: child, husband, mum and friends. Still, I won’t eschew my responsibilities before leaving the house, the greatest of which is feeding the boy, so I stuff pieces of baked salmon into his mouth, one by one the pieces go in, as he watches Peppa the Pig in Greek, and I am plaiding my hair and excitedly taking phone calls from the girls…and at exactly 6:15pm I am out the door en route to Mirdif.
Food is a feast when we arrive: organic bread baskets and an array of spreads care of the sweet staff at Le Pain Quotidian who notice how famished Camilla is (coming directly after work) and pushy I am (standard). Next the rest of the girls turn up: Rio and her mum, then Sunny. What is remarkable is that I don’t feel one iota of guilt for going out, and as far as Kingsley is concerned, all I’ve done is ‘step out to shop for bread and milk.’ Mum is a gem as the white lie. Plus he buys it.
Leaving for home is just as much fun as getting here. Nearing midnight and on the metro I meet some cool international people, one of whom is the son of the current First Family of Kashmir; the other is a couple from Cameroon who attend church and are down with the youth. I can barely understand any of them however the half hour ride is all laughter and compliments. The obligatory selfies are taken and promises to hook up via Facebook are made.
I do, of course, return home with a wee gift for Kingsley; he has never really left my mind: a blue flashlight which projects the image of an ever growing red spider when directed toward a wall or ceiling. He goes nuts. Barely realized I was gone, mum says. Bread and milk can wait till tomorrow.