When everybody had been fed on Friday I went upstairs and packed my weekend case, kissed everyone goodbye, put my case into the boot of the car, key into the ignition and sang as I headed off on my journey from Wicklow to Meath where my friend of many years Mairead was hosting a Poker & Bitch Night.
And what a night. There's just something so comforting and feminine about a group of women popping corks, drinking whiskey & wine and cursing like dockers when someone bum deals.
Not to forget ordering chinese, eating smoked salmon from Howth Pier, chasing 30 rolling olives across the kitchen floor and smashing plates Greek style.
Yes, I do so love those girly nights.
At 3pm my mouth hit the Solpaedine then my head hit the pillow of Maireads ever so comfortable and new Ikea bed and I drifted off to sleep whilst flicking through the pages of the latest Ikea Catalog and I dreamt of living happily ever after in Ikea and when I woke up four and a half hours later and had to do the wallpaper test, where I try to guess who and where the hell I am . The fact that Ikea was my first guess I took as a sure sign from the universe that I should get out of bed and drive straight up to Belfast to Ikea like RIGHT THERE AND THEN
Instead I put on my makeup in front of her lovely new Ikea mirror and could do absolutely nothing about the fact that so little sleep made me look like I 'd applied it with a hammer.
Then I headed off at 8.30am for Wicklow where I spent the morning packing for a family trip to Wexford and texting about who had said what the night before. BECAUSE THAT'S EXACTLY HOW EXCITING MY LIFE IS.
The day was very sunny and because it realized we were planning to enjoy ourselves it managed somehow to squeeze out 5 minutes of snowfall which caused the kids run around collecting falling flakes and the husband and I to eyeball each other and see who would blink first.
If the car hadn't been packed the memories of our last visit which was akin to a night camped out in our food freezer would have been enough for us to ply the kids with sweets to soften the blow that frostbite prevention was not our idea of time well spent and we would never have gone. But it was and so off we went to our place in Wexford.
On the journey the kids fall asleep in the back of the car and I pass the time by telling The Husband all about the lovely smooth roads I hear they have on the Belfast Motor-way because I know how much more interested he is in tarmac than he is in flat-pack.