Dining out

I hurriedly jump out of bed this morning cursing my husband and his crock of a van. I have to bring him to work because the clutch went in said van yesterday. I shout at Child#1 to get up for his rugby match as I quickly pull on my clothes. Last night, he was the Child#1 of old, full of energy and chatty and declaring that he was turning over a new leaf and would be up early from now on. Roll on a few hours and the moody soon to be teenager has returned. In fairness, he has had a bad night of low blood sugars due to excessive training and cross country running yesterday. He gets up eventually and then demands to know where his rugby travel top is and accusingly asks if I washed it. I tell him I washed it last week so of course it's ready and with the rest of his gear. He then drops the bombshell that he wore it at training last night. I find the top stuffed in a bag caked with mud. There is no time to wash and dry it so he is forced to wear a regular top. I dart here and there dressing the baby and packing Child#1's hypo kit...lucozade, bars, etc. My husband puts all his tools in my lovely car and soon we are on the way. I drop Child#1 to the rugby bus and warn him to be careful and then I taxi my husband to his building site. My husband is sulking because I wouldn't just let him take my car. He asks pitifully where he will shelter should it rain. I tell him I don't really care as long as I am not left stranded at home all day with six kids and no car!
I abandon him to his building and head off home. I stop in briefly to the beauticians to fix my chipped finger nails because tonight is my big dinner out with the girls.
Before I know it, I am home again feeding the baby and the other kids. Child#2 cycles to the shop with a friend. Child#5 and I go for a walk with the baby, three dogs and one cat. Child#3 and 4 play on their x box and tablet all day. The day passes quickly and by 5 30p.m. I have collected my husband from work and Child#1 from the bus and then it is time to  jump in the shower and get ready for my night out. I neglect to put a towel on the floor and in my hurry leaping out of shower I nearly do the splits as I slip on a pool of water. I shake myself off and continue to my bedroom to tackle my unruly curly hair; slap on the make up to cover the dark under eye circles, squeeze into my new outfit that my Mom gave me and feed the baby from both boobs so to be even and then I'm all set to go. I bid goodbye to my husband and kids and I speed off into the night in my friend's fancy car. We have gone a few miles when I feel a weird sensation and I wonder in horror if I have wet myself but I am relieved to discover that the warm feeling is actually her heated seats. We have a lovely dinner and as soon as I've gobbled up my white chocolate  cheesecake, I am yearning to go home. I stifle yawns as Friend#1 and 2 try to outdo each other in the comparisons stakes between houses and children. I am relieved when Friend#3, who happens to be my lift home, needs to leave early. All I can think of is my hot water bottle and fluffy pyjamas. I get home and rush up the stairs just in time to stop my husband giving the baby a bottle. I eagerly latch the baby on before I explode and I give a satisfied sigh. After all the shaving, plucking and beautifying, here I am, home sweet home, back where I belong.
Goodnight!