We'll get to go out for dinner without spending a fortune on babysitting and both of us can drink and walk. I'll get to go to Pennys ON MY OWN. I'll get to read decent newspapers and heaps of magazines. I'll wean myself off the Internet and television as we have neither in our house. I'll have my hair down twice a week ON MY OWN. I may even go as far as having a manicure ON MY OWN. I'll meet old friends. I'll host a gathering of the St Patrick's Society of Manila in my kitchen.
I’ll write three short stories of the highest calibre, all of which will go on to win well-regarded literary competitions. Oops, slipped into fantasy land with that one!
I’ll probably only wear half the clothes I’ve packed but having thoroughly enjoyed imagining all the glamorous occasions that might have warranted me needing them, I won’t mind. I’ve even packed a ‘work outfit’ in case I pluck up the courage to call up the editor of Infant magazine to offer my services. Of course in fantasy land she welcomes my proposals with enthusiasm, even gratitude, wonders aloud why I have taken so long to contact her and invites me to her swish Dublin offices for a tête-à-tête about the regular column she’d like me to write for her. She’ll also remark on how well-maintained my hair and nails are considering I’m the breastfeeding mother of three under six and a half. Oh, and would I like to be on the cover of her next edition?
Back here on planet Earth, I'd better go finish squeezing knickers into teeny spaces and remove five My Little Ponys from the suitcase for the third time. I also have to find space for an umbrella.