Dinner and dancing: a photograph of the children dancing while I finish preparing for a dinner party that evening.
This weekend I had friends come for dinner and Lauca decided to wear an old flower girl dress for the occasion and so then Cormac wanted to wear a ballerina’s costume. (I am a little bit delighted whenever Cormac chooses to wear a dress because he has recently discovered boy culture and toy guns in a big, enthusiastic way (and don’t get me started about the guns, that’s a whole other post), and I am trying to make peace with all this cheerful talk of killing that is constantly coming out of a three year old’s mouth and a pink tutu really helps that along).
This was my most relaxed dinner party ever. I was solo parenting and doing the preparations alone and I was getting just a little over-loaded when at some point I had this wonderful realisation that I could stop running errands and make dinner out of whatever ingredients I already had in the fridge or growing in the garden. And it actually worked. The meal was nice and my friends brought jellied champagnes with strawberries for dessert. Somehow my friend managed to make the jelly with the champagne bubbles intact, which is clearly a metaphor for me and my weekend.