Last weekend the hubby and I went to dinner with some friends. We had good food and lively conversation, and as much as I love motherhood, it was nice to leave the peanut with Grandma for the night and enjoy an evening out. You might say it was refreshing to remember what it's like to be an adult.
After dinner, we went to a karaoke bar and made fools of ourselves.
Yes, I did get up and sing. Nobody died or ran for cover, so it must not have been all that bad. (Or they were being charitable. Or perhaps they were in possession of earplugs.) I was terrified, of course. Half the point of being a writer is that nobody's actually looking at you. You get to hide behind a computer. But I managed, and my friends sang too. And it was fun to sing along when someone else had the microphone. Therapeutic, actually. Hmm, I might have to do this karaoke thing again. Making a fool of yourself as therapy. Who knew?