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I went out to a restaurant for dessert tonight. By myself. What an interesting experience! I have dined out countless times for all sorts of reasons and at various times of the day but never have I done so alone unless I was ordering takeaway or eating something like sushi. This was a full-blown restaurant with dim lighting, smooth music, attentive waiters and a cosy atmosphere, and it felt so much stranger than I thought it would. I noticed a couple of sideways glances from the table next to me when my dessert arrived as though they were thinking, ‘oh, she’s not waiting for a date?’ Nope my friends, this was just an old cat lady out on the town. Well, not really.

Today is the last day of the Easter Octave and I really wanted to mark it in some special way. Up until I put my son to sleep this evening it had been a remarkably less-than-average day and I was feeling despondent at the way Easter was slipping away without some kind of celebration. Mass today was a bit of a disaster (Adoomi’s Mass Grade is a C+ by the way), I haven’t got around to Googling for a live feed of the Sainting yet – which I’m beginning to think I’ve missed completely – and I hadn’t eaten any chocolate. What a way to spend my last chocolate-devouring day! So, I decided to go out for dessert. We’re lucky to have a few restaurants just down the road and Harry was happy to keep an ear out in case Adoomi happened to wake so off I toddled.

I chose a restaurant I’ve been wanting to try for a while and it ended up being rather posher indeed than I was expecting but that suited my mood well so I waltzed on in. As I was walking from my car (I only live 500m away but that’s a long way to run in fancy shoes if the baby wakes up!) I told myself that people probably do this kind of thing all the time, like business people, food critic people, um…. well, people! and that I should exude an air of confidence and belonging. The concierge didn’t bat an eyelid when I requested a table for one and he produced a dessert menu with a flourish. I sat and enjoyed the free internet, browsed blogs on my phone, unhurriedly relished every last mouthful of my dessert, and actually quite enjoyed the whole experience.

Just as I was demolishing the last crackle of snap I got a text from Harry to say that Adoomi had woken up. He definitely has some kind of mum’s-out-of-the-house sixth sense so I wasn’t surprised and I dashed out of there like Cinderella at 11:59. I was home less than five minutes later to a soundly sleeping baby and not-at-all stressed Harry. Ah well, the escapade was lovely while it lasted and is most certainly to be repeated in the not so distant future.

Oh and I had the brandy snaps, and they were delicious right up to the last morsel.

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