The last few dinners without the poo monster. So the wife and I are stepping out on the town. 

It’s a strange sensation when you know a way of doing things is going to be finished very soon. No more boozy lunches, no more Michelin stars, no more upmarket…now to the hell of the local pub, harvester, chain pizza nightmare with the rest of the new brood. 

But it doesn’t have to be that way does it? There is, as far as I can see, no reason why, if you want to keep something as part of your life you can’t do that. Fuck expectations, fuck the mommy nazis, fuck the chain pizza nightmare. Bring on the bistro and understanding maitre’d. 

Fair enough D day is only a month off, and soon we won’t feel like heading out. But instead of no more this and that, we’ll add…no more Michelin stars, for a while.

We’ll be back…and we’ll bring our son!

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