Yesterday daughter N was off to yet another birthday party - she's been to about one hundred and forty-five in the last two weeks - but this time an extra special one because it was her best friend's party (the young lad I've mentioned before here and here.) The party was also special because it involved reptiles. And a tarantula. A reptile lady came around and showed kids some amazing specimens, which they were allowed the hold and stroke. All but the tarantula, apparently a slightly unpredictable specimen and prone to nervousness. What exactly that means, I do NOT want to know. In any case, the reptile lady taught the kids all about reptiles and what you need to do should you run into one somewhere. They even got a wee diploma at the end of the session.
After dropping N off at the party, I took son S into town for a bit of mother-son togetherness, something we both really appreciate. We sat at one of our favourite cafe's, outside, not caring a fig that it was raining. We sat under the awning with an outdoor heater on, enjoying people rush by. "Would you like a small cappuccino or a large one?" the waiter asked. Normally I always go for small - I really have to watch the caffeine intake - but this time I thought I'd pull out all the stops. "Large, please."
My son laughed. "You and your cappuccino," he said.
Early evening we picked up N from the party. It was dark. There were stars out. And the sharp scent of burning fireplaces filled the air.