the perfect saturday night

my strawberry malibu in one hand.. i have to write this single-handed :P i will watch yet-another episode of Scrubs and then i will be out. out not to go somewhere in particular or to do something but just for being out. with my little black skirt and micky mouse t-shirt i could have a 6 year old version of me just as fitting for the occassion (only without the malibu in the strawberry smoothie)
as happy as i may be, i miss those saturday evenings I spent in other children's rooms, when i was out a visit to my parents friends. this was not the way to write it. I do not miss my then-new made friendships, starts a bit boring and ends with all whining about the call from the parents that it is time to go.

I miss the whole routine. My mother telling me to get ready after dinner. Arriving there at around 9, it is always inappropriate after 21:00 as it is too late. And my mother worries and complains if this happens and apologizes. If we arrive on time, there is always the remark: "well, you know, housework, and the children and dinner.. it is impossible to make it earlier". It is always the same things, they give us slippers to wear at the door. I, usually mildly uncomfortable in my stockings (this never changes) , am sent to the childrens' room while my parents get seated comfortably in the "saloon". Occasional visits to the saloon when bored in the earlier hours, and then occasional visits from mom to check on me at later hours when the play sweetens. They fetch me if there is something to show off.. But not so often. The cake break as usual, "No, thanks I do not like tea. But sure I could take coke", and too soon comes the end. I fell asleep on the front seat -front was always mine until I grew up and my parents rediscovered each other- sometimes and other times simply listened to the epilogue to the evening from my parents. The former being more to my advantage as my father had to carry me to my bed then. The latter being more enjoyable with light gossip.