I’m going to be 40 next year.
I’m getting married in four months.
I have two children under the age of six.
I’m supposed to be a grown up.
But something happens after a couple of beers on a night out.
I think I’m a rockstar.
I have no off button, no ‘it’s time to go home’ instinct.
It’s like I forget that I’m probably going to be up at 6am.
Or that the questions such as ‘why is the sun shining?’ or ‘why can’t cats fly?’ or ‘is Daddy’s real name Daddy?’ start from that point onwards.
I need to remind myself before I go out that:
a) I am not a Michael Jackson impersonator.
b) Not everyone wants to see me lip sync to Man in The Mirror (even if I do all the moves VERY WELL.)
c) When the pub DJ says they do not take requests, that normally means they do not take requests the first time I ask them or the twentieth for that matter.
These are great life lessons, and ones I hope to impart to my children on day.
Once I’ve started taking heed of them myself, obviously.