A night out with friends
One of the things I miss most about pre-kids life is adult-only spontaneous plans.
Lately, my spontaneity has been limited to deciding to make a Costco run to stock up on toilet paper, berries and nacho chips and then spontaneously deciding to pick up pizza on the way home to avoid the daily “yes you must eat this food I have cooked, I don’t care if you hate eggplant/zucchini/ spinach/mushrooms” conversation with 10-year-old Ibrahim.
Last-minute plans with friends have been relegated to a thing of the past, a fixture my husband and I reminisce about in hushed tones: “Remember when we would just decide to go out and then leave the house, like, five minutes later?”
Being a parent is pretty awesome, but it sure does complicate one’s schedule. Or maybe having to do a deep dive into Google Calendar before deciding on even the simplest of plans is just a feature of being a Responsible Adult.
I’m guilty of over-planning too. I have excel spread sheets and detailed budget plans of every trip and large expenditure. Big picture is sort of what I do, as a writer and a high school teacher and especially as a parent.
All I want for my 30-mumble-mumble birthday is to go with the flow, act in the moment, leap into the abyss of an unplanned evening out on the town. Beyond a restaurant reservation (I couldn’t help myself) we would see where the night took us.
In keeping with this fly-bythe-seat-of-our-pants-plan, I texted another couple:
Are you free tonight? NO KIDS ALLOWED NO EXCEPTIONS!
Miraculously, they were, and had babysitting too. I took this to be a good omen, and decided not to test my luck by inviting anyone else to join our freewheeling fun.
Dinner was great. Afterwards, all four of us took out our phones to look for last minute evening hijinks.
Turns out, the rest of Toronto was a bit more firmed up on their Saturday night plans. We ended up wandering around the downtown core, looking forlornly for things to do. A show? A movie? What about a comedy club? Something at the Bell TIFF Lightbox? Nope, no, nuh-uh, sold out, gone to rush, better luck next time.
Who are all these young people making plans and buying tickets in advance? Don’t they know how to let loose and float around? Which is what we ended up doing. We walked around the entertainment district, admiring the blue lights and pulsing music spilling from clubs, people-watching lineups outside bars, restaurants, event venues. We walked around the financial district, so quiet on a weekend night. Past a few bookstores, where I peeked inside darkened windows to ogle new releases. We took selfies that we didn’t post anywhere, just to keep on our phones and admire in the coming days, when our only “spontaneous” plans would be week night grocery shopping at Loblaws.
After a few hours, we ended up at a Tim Hortons, sipping on hot steeped tea and nibbling donuts. To be honest, not entirely different from what we would have been doing in our 20s after a night out. Cracking jokes, teasing each other, trying not to talk about our kids but talking about them anyway. Resolving, next time, to plan a tiny bit more before we ventured out of our homes for a wild, unplanned night on the town. Secretly thinking, this was more fun anyway.
Of course, the next time the stars align may well be when our kids are in university. But on this lazy night unspooling with delicious aimlessness, we give ourselves permission to dream.
Uzma Jalaluddin is a Toronto-based writer and a freelance contributor for the Star. Reach her via email: ujalaluddin@outlook.com