Discover husband has bought me a Valentine’s present for the first time in years. Panic buy a present in return.
Google for recipe ideas. Drag both kids around the supermarket to buy ingredients for suitably special meal (duck with Savoy cabbage and balsamic dressing, since you’re asking).
Bake cake for pudding with eldest, who insists on covering supposedly classy dessert with an inch of sugar strands. Lick the spoon clean.
Realise that the chances of getting two periods of quiet from baby are slim, so reluctantly decide to allow children at our not so romantic meal.
Tactically negotiate feeding baby mid cooking in the hope she’ll sleep through dinner. It doesn’t work so throw her into arms of husband to continue cooking.
Wolf down carefully prepared meal in 5 minutes flat before resuming baby calming duties. Similar tactic taken with the fancy pudding.
Leave husband to tackle the mound of washing up. Get reminded that whenever I cook I use every pan and utensil in the house. Decide this isn’t the time to tell him the recipe was advertised as ‘one pan’.
Eldest to bed, youngest apparently surgically attached to her milk source.
Glass of prosecco poured. Spotify on via the TV. Sit playing on our respective phones not talking to each other.
Decide this is a bad use of Valentine’s Day evening so write a blog post instead.
Realise we haven’t even given each other our Valentine’s presents yet.
It’s ok, it’s only just gone 9pm, there’s still time to rectify this…