I am worn out.
Hence this might be yet another abridged entry, for which I apologise despite not feeling sorry in the least. Indeed, I am entirely looking forward to the moment at which the light will disappear and my weary eyes will close.
I have partied until I can hardly see.
This is not as much as the children have partied. They abandoned all of us in the bar at the Midland and took themselves off to go clubbing. We grown ups are going to bed early. It is only midnight.
We have had a relatively quiet day. Everybody else went off to play in something called an Escape Room. I am not sure exactly what the point of these is, except I know that the children think they are splendid fun. I am a bit old for splendid fun, however, and Mark and I went off for a gentle stroll around the Christmas markets and Waterstones instead.
This made up for its lack of excitement by being completely undemanding, which was exactly what I wanted from the day.
Obviously as soon as we got back we had to dash about getting showered and polished and thoroughly buffed up for our evening out. I had a new dress for the occasion, because of discovering that the absence of chocolate buttons has caused last year’s dress, which was perfectly adequate in every other way, to become too large and baggy. Hence I should warn you, abstinence is a costly pastime. Think carefully before you start.
It was a very nice dress, in tartan. I liked it very much. I discovered far too late, however, about five minutes before we were due to go out, that the tights had also become too large and baggy, and in consequence was obliged to try and ignore irritatingly wrinkly stockings all night.
Fortunately nobody else is ever looking, despite what you might think.
In any case I did not care. We had a marvellous time.
We started off at the Chinese buffet. We go there every year, and we like the Chinese man whose restaurant it is very much indeed. You go down a flight of steps and the restaurant is below ground, exactly like our living room at home, and not really very much bigger, and so it feels welcoming and homely.
The chap who runs it is called Phil. We have got to know one another very well over the years, and this evening we met his daughter who has opened her own shop just a little way away. We popped across to admire it when we had finished dinner, mostly she is selling Manga figures. I do not know very much about these, although the children have had bursts of interest on occasion, but it all looked very tidy and hopeful.
We ate far too much, of course, because it was very good indeed, and were feeling quite rotund by the time we staggered out. It is about ten minutes’ walk across to the theatre, which was just as well, because of needing to persuade our dinners to settle comfortably around the midriff-point.
After that it was the pantomime.
It was ace.
Of course it was ace, it always is. This year it started early when Prince Charming explained that the BBC had come to film some BBC rubbish and would we all practice booing for the benefit of the cameras. We did boo, but a little reluctantly, I am sure it is good for the theatre to have the television dropping in, but I do not feel any great need to make television viewing more interesting , if people want to see pantomimes then they should jolly well come out and see them, not sit at home watching them on telly.
Fortunately they buzzed off quite quickly, and we could get on with the real booing and shouting at the stage and making trumpet noises for the benefit of Prince Charming.
I loved it.
I always love it.
I yelled my head off. Mark shouted so much that he can’t talk now that we are back in our hotel room, and has whispered a hoarse goodnight before instantly passing out.
It was brilliant. I know it is called a spoiler to tell you what happens, but for those who do not manage to come and see it, Prince Charming married Cinderella in the end, and the Wicked Stepmother jolly well got her comeuppance, which was entirely satisfactory.
It was a truly Happy Ending to a brilliant week.
Oh, yes it was.
