I Was Swallowed By A Hippo

Castle life, Aga strife, slummy mummy, average wife

Forty Years Young

on April 2, 2014

20140403-075636.jpgI am recovering from yet another blissful, child-free weekend spent in the company of fabulous women. The first of my primary schools chums hit the big ‘four-oh-no’ and bravely decided to embrace the ghastly milestone with a weekend away with 12 of her closest and daftest pals in a beautiful wooden cabin complete with hot tub.

What followed was a glorious celebration of all things ‘Lynda’ which we managed to arrange behind her back after weeks of secret collaborations over Facebook. New friendships have been forged (much to the annoyance of the birthday girl – she was never good at sharing) and old friendships have been rekindled as we pulled together a wonderful melange of all of her favourite things. These included, in no particular order of total amazingness, a birthday cake depicting the metamorphosis of frogs in fondant icing, a Lynda themed game of Family Fortunes complete with creepy Les Dennis mask and whap-whap*, Lynda bunting, a photo album rammed with memories and a personalised Guess Who? game made with pals old and new, sporting various disguises and interesting facial hair. Our gorgeous girl was chuffed to bits.

When it wasn’t all about Lynda, it was all about the hot tub. Six of us sensibly eschewed a 25 mile cycle ride on the Saturday in favour of a four hour soak/therapy session accompanied by a ready supply of beer, wine and prosecco. 20140403-173530.jpgI vaguely remember someone stuffing crisps in my mouth too. I think that day ranks as one of my happiest ever, notwithstanding my wedding day and the births of my two children. Probably.

Predictably, the girls, who had been little treasures for my parents all weekend, ganged up together and decided to be totally foul to me by way of punishment for abandoning them. It was counter-productive though as I’m now even more desperate to book another weekend away. I fully intend to play the’ F**K ME I’M FORTY’ card and see if I can wing another child-free break, maybe even with my husband this time. A hot tub will be mandatory as well as at all the girls from the birthday weekend and a good few from the hen, for good measure. A reasonable request I think although I strongly suspect he would rather pan-fry his testicles.

*me neither. It’s the ‘wrong answer’ sound apparently.

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2 responses to “Forty Years Young

  1. Lynda G says:

    Aw em-you’ve made me cry all over again-sums up the weekend brilliantly! And a week later it is STILL all about me-brilliant! Xxxxxxxxxx

  2. […] time last year my lovely friend organised a fabulous girly weekend away which was largely spent in a hot tub, drunk on Prosecco. This year, by marked contrast, we were […]

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