Wednesday, February 01, 2012

A good night

After work I went with a colleague to Cibreo for some happy hour drinks.  A couple of good rounds of laughs and good-natured bitching.  Afterwards I met L, Alice, and friends for dinner.  J was in town for a couple days and I was looking forward to a leisurely evening of laughs and revelry.  When I arrived at the apartment the baby girls were just coming out of the bath, all wearing their pajamas - N in hearts, Alice in pink and red footies, P in her blue footies.  The girls giggled and swarmed around the apartment as the adults prepared dinner.

I left the apartment, so briefly, to buy some bourbon and ice cream - 3 pints from Ben and Jerry's for $12 - strawberry cheesecake (the classic), Boston Cream Pie (the chocolate), Cinnamon Buns (the wild card).  Back inside the ladies were drinking dirty martinis while the men moved on to bourbon.  Around 9 or so some wonderful Asian noodly dish made its way to the table as the baby girls slept or mumbled in the bedrooms.  We ate and laughed, ate and laughed.  Dinner plates were replaced by bowls and ice cream.  Alice grew upset, so around 10 pm we brought her back into the fray.  She was charming, eating her ice cream, speaking into the remotes as if they were telephones, hugging and flirting with all of us.   J&A gave us our Christmas presents: a ridiculously hipster hoodie for me, plus a bookstore gift certificate, and a Kindle for L.  J said "we love you" so casually and easily that it must be true. 

Finally we coaxed a jacket onto our daughter and packed everything into a cab.  Made it home here, watched some television.  As I write this I finished some work stuff and L is asleep in the other room.  Tomorrow morning I'll see my friend J briefly, briefly, before he returns to Spain until the summertime.  But it will be enough.

The refrain tonight - "it feels like Friday, but it's only Tuesday."  Such small sweet pleasures in life - good food and drink, friends you love dearly.  Considerate gifts.  A child eating ice cream late at night in her borrowed pajamas; the chance for our daughter to be the girl who stays up, the one who gets to sneak into our nighttime conversation, to see her parents with their friends, so happy, so grateful.  

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