As my friend and I were guided to our table at one of Brisbane’s funkier restaurants recently, I felt a rush of excitement.
Night outs don’t happen often around these parts.
I was all dolled up and keen to see how the other half lives on a Friday night and, more importantly, to have a meal free of interrupting kids.
With our table at the back of the dimly lit restaurant within my sight, I shimmied through the last of the very closely placed tables ready to sit down and indulge in good food and good company.
It was then that I heard some glasses nearby clink and then dance in dangerous circles ready for an inevitable crash to the ground.
The restaurant once alive with chatter had become still waiting and watching to see if the glasses could be rescued before they came crashing down.
I spun around expecting to see a random drunk stumbling around knocking over drinks to the cries of ‘Taxi’. Instead, I discovered that this glass disaster was being caused by none other than yours truly.
The gigantic nappy bag I insist on carrying with me everywhere had all but obliterated the romantic table for two next to me.
While the agitated owner of the wine, water, and cocktail glasses (greedy much?) gave me a look as he rescued his drinks, I filled the air with close to one thousand apologies.
I sat down awkwardly turning fifty shades of red and placed the offending bag on the bench seat between me and the table I had inadvertently tried to destruct.
The woman looked at me and then at the bag and then back to me.
Her look said it all.
I too looked down at my humungous, yet much loved, nappy bag and wondered why I lugged it along with me on a night out with my friend. Surely a simple clutch would have been enough!
I didn’t need the four nappies in the bag, the nappy sacks, the wipes, or the flattened packet of sultanas, its contents scattered throughout the bottom of my bag. I didn’t need the rattle. I didn’t need the massive tub of rash cream. I didn’t need the pair of size 3-4 princess undies, Dora clips or hairbands.
And you know what?! I don’t even need all of that paraphernalia when I’m out and about with the kids.
I can never find anything in the bag anyway other than sticky sultanas. It’s like a black hole in there.
Plus, because I can never find anything in there, I usually take an additional bag out with me with all of that extra stuff I might need like snacks and books and oh God I need help.
I honest to God look like a homeless bag lady with the amount of junk I haul around on a daily basis.
Despite the fact the nappy bag is a black hole and probably weighs more than my 19-month-old, it is a danger to those around me.
If you thought knocking over a table of drinks was bad, then I won’t tell you about the time I accidentally gave Miss Three a black eye with it …
With the girls now three and 19-months-old, I can afford to travel a little lighter these days.
It is officially time to stop moonlighting as a bag lady and downsize. Big time.
I feel lighter already!
Do you haul a lot of junk around in your handbag or nappy bag?