New Year’s Eve and the usual foreboding set in early. It is lovely that I am married and have children to fall back on. My early teenage years of feeling a failure if I didn’t snog at least one person by the time Big Ben stopped chiming 12 times is still a sore memory. I used to get so desperate that even failed nerd with halitosis was acceptable, especially as that was a mirror image of myself.
But thankfully that is all in the past as I have a guaranteed pull at the end of the night and a free ride, both in the sympathetic form of my husband. This is the only time I lunge myself at him in a drunken stupor before passing out in his lap.
This year we were invited to our friend’s house to drink expensive champagne, eat homemade curry and play with the new Xbox 360 that actually mirrors your body movements. I felt like I was in Minority Report with Tom Cruise without the pressure to convert to Scientology.
And to finish off this relaxed evening we watched the fireworks from the warmth and comfort of a large sofa before flagging and driving home.
Don’t worry, my husband got his drunken snog and I even managed to pass out in the car on the way home. It was like old times again.
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