|The way I usually roll…|
In all my aged, mom of two young kids, most-safely-dressed-in-pajama jeans glory, I found myself going clubbing on Saturday night. Yes, you read that right. GOING CLUBBING. This is definitely Among Things That Should Never Happen. If I didn’t love my cousin so much, I most definitely would have bailed on her bachelorette party. It wasn’t so much a matter of me not wanting to go, but more that I wanted to spare all the young kids from being exposed to my over-aged spit-up covered self. Was it possible for the bouncer to refuse me entry because I was too Generation X? Would some drunken hipster accidentally mistake me for their mother? Above all, what in the world was I going to wear?? Would I even remember how to behave on a night out with other adults? What did the inside of “fun” place without Chuck E. Cheese plastered all over the walls even look like?
Despite all my doubts that this evening was doomed for disaster…it wasn’t so bad? We laughed, oh yes, I even grooved a little, and…I enjoyed myself?? Now this isn’t to say I’ll be banging down the doors of clubs every Saturday night, and I definitely had more than one moment of jaw-dropping shock over “What in the world is that are the ‘young kids today’ wearing?!“, but it was cool to just hang out–with fun being the only purpose and no mechanical carousels or skee-ball games in sight. And this Mom of the Year was very happy to send my cousin into matrimony with a flourish, albeit mom jeans and all