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The nine year old who was round yesterday had been telling Phoebe how she had been to the shop three times on her own. Phoebe has yet to go anywhere unaccompanied and I think she was a little jealous of this freedom. She asked her mum this morning why she hadn't been allowed to do this and Catie said that she absolutely could, that she could go down to the Post Office and buy us some milk right now.
It was a big moment in her life and as I heard the plans being made I welled up a bit. My little girl was about to take her first steps out into the world. It was a momentous event for her and for us. Our little baby was now big enough to go somewhere on her own. The tears were of pride, of nostalgia, but also of fear. Even with something as safe as a quarter mile walk along a pavement with no roads to cross, and back, did not come without dangers. But if she was going to let go of the apron strings then so did I. I was mainly happy about it.
Phoebe though, had not been expecting consent. She wanted to complain that we never let her do anything and wasn't expecting to be allowed. Her bravado faded a little. She asked Catie if she'd be able to come along, but a few metres behind her, which would, of course be OK (and I suspect if she'd hadn't asked one of us would have been keeping an eye out from a distance). Then she decided that she didn't want to go at all. Which was fine as well. It's a huge step into the unknown and we were all correct to be fearful. It would happen another day. Another day soon. But not today.
Even the possibility stirred up my emotions in a way I had not been anticipating.
The kids were going to spend the day and night with their grandparents and so Catie and I had another much needed date night. We went to see a poor film, Argyle (though I think the alternate movies on offer would have been equally bad). The best you could say for it was that it had a strong female lead who whilst being very beautiful didn't conform to the usually (almost literally) one-dimensional body standards of Hollywood. It was not up our street though, but would Madame Web have been any better? Before hand we'd had dinner and then had time to visit an almost empty
Boom Battle Bar where we'd played pool (against another person? Crazy) like we had on one of our first dates 16 years ago. Catie took me into the ladies' toilets, not for any shenanigans, but because there were no other women in the place and so we were safe and if you pressed a button on the wall it played La Bamba and disco lights flashed, which apparently didn't happen in the gents. I liked this place though. Some teenagers were playing darts on a futuristic board which lit up like something out of Bullseye and you could play ping pong or throw axes (which doesn't seem at all dangerous in a bar). Why was this place not full to the brim?
But just amazing to do stuff with just the two of us, as much as I love doing stuff with those other two idiots, who will all too soon be flying the net. When they do I will be the only 70 years old in the Boom Battle Bar every night.
