No Sailor hijinks for me

I was meant to be partying at a Sailor Jerry rum launch in the city last night.

But I cooked spag bol in the suburbs instead.

The party was held at a bar called Ramblin’ Rascal to launch a new Sailor Jerry premix drink in a can. They often hold these shindigs on a Monday night as its traditionally a bartender’s day off, so the trade are available to taste test the wares.

There were going to be “killer rum cocktails” and burgers from a hip Newtown joint called Mary’s, plus free actual tattooing of partygoers by Lil Tokyo.

Sounded pretty cool … But single motherhood got in the way.

The youngest decided on Sunday night that it was easier to come home to me after the State Jump Rope Championships than go to her dad’s place.

I had her school uniform, there was an English assignment to print out, that sort of thing.

I woke on Monday morning to a message from my ex asking if the kids could remain with me as he didn’t want to drag them – and all their stuff – over to his place for just one night.

I wondered if that was code for “I need some me time”.

And I was very tempted to reply “No, I have plans”, but then the youngest woke up with flu symptoms and severe muscle pain from skipping for two days straight.

So I found myself on parenting duty, with no food in the fridge for the kids’ dinner, as I’d been expecting to be child free.

It didn’t seem quite right to drink canned rum at a bar while I had a sick child in bed, so I sent my apologies and made spag bol.

In happier news, I have the video of the youngest’s three-person double dutch routine. They made one mistake in it, but I think it’s pretty freaking awesome. Proud mum!

Take a look …