Many, many years ago my friend Stella and I, unmarried but
each with a baby, were invited at very
short notice to a party, given by two highly eligible bachelors. We were always hoping to meet the men of our
dreams and we decided we desperately wanted
to attend. .
`We’ll have to bring the babies,’ Stella told the stockbroker,
`They can just sleep in the spare room – you do have a spare room don’t you?’
He consulted with his flatmate the lawyer. They decided they did have a spare room so we got all dolled up in our mini skirts and off we went.
It was a great party, we met lots of interesting new people,
and when we piled into a taxi at four in the morning we were congratulating
ourselves on expanding our social circle.
At seven am the panic stricken host of the previous evening
rang to tell us that the babies were now awake and demanding breakfast. He was not amused! He was on his way to work in the City at any
moment and would we please come and collect them.
Of course he did not ask us to his next party. He lost our phone number. Needless to say we have never told the
children about the night we forgot to take them home with us.
Interesting. I'll add that to the catalgoue of errors.
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