Thursday, 30 June 2011
Where it all began
Yesterday night Fanf and I went out for dinner to celebrate his birthday. It is the second time we have been out since O was born (the first time being my birthday). Sometimes I talk to other parents and this seems horrific. Sometimes I talk to other parents and it seems perfectly normal. Well, whatever it seems, it is our life and we don't really have a choice in the matter, the money tree not being indigenous to the planet Earth. Whilst painting the town red with my Fanf is probably something I'd enjoy doing more often than twice a year, only doing it twice a year makes it incredibly special. I was so excited last night, it felt like those first dates. When you're so desperate to be with that one person, to give them all your attention and feel all their attention on you. We had the most amazing night.
We went to La Raffinerie, a classy restaurant in a converted sulphur refinery and sat on the terrace next to the Canal du Midi. It rained (just to stop anyone getting carried away on a wave of southern French romance). We came home and proceeded to play a medley of our favourite love songs, and then any other songs we liked, and drink Fanf's dad's homemade prune liqueur until about 3.30am. We were serenaded, amongst others, by Tom Waits, Cat Power, Madness, General Electriks, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, Eric Bibb (of course) and Gorillaz. At 3.30am I would like to say we gently drifted off to sleep in each other's arms but actually Fanf had to pack a suitcase and hotfoot it down to the station to catch a ridiculously early train to Paris for work. And that's where he is right now. In Paris. Allowing me to regale you/bore you with the story of how Bex and Fanf played when the mini-beasts were away. As we left the restaurant we fondly reminisced about how wonderful it was when it was just the two of us. But if it hadn't been so wonderful before we would never have entered the state of constant wonder in which we currently exist, watching Matilda and Owen discover (wreak havoc) on the world.
All that said, if at some point in the future we do manage to ditch the mini-beasts, grab our glad rags and our paint cans maybe three or four times a year, I'm sure I'd still manage to get excited. Nothing is more exciting to me than being with Fanf.
[Photo from those heady Parisian days in one of our favourite haunts, Le Resto-Zinc, where we had one of those life-changing first dates.]