I went with the nippers yesterday to another kid's fifth birthday. All the usual suspects were there; the mums and nannies I rub shoulders with on an almost daily basis. It's a bit like going to work, though we chat around the swimming pool, not the water cooler, and the talk is not of corporate largesse or potential take-overs or who is going to get the chop or get promoted, rather our talk is of tantrums, sore nipples (though not mine, I hasten to add...), sleepless nights, the cough doing the rounds of toddlerland and "is that Jeremy climbing the side of the house? Oh, someone, do get there quickly! JEREMY!"
This being the suburb I live in it was difficult to get a parking space for the Bentley in amongst the Jags, Mercs, 4WDs, BMWs and wall-to-wall Lexus. I did what I usually do and parked across someone else's drive (yes, I used to own a Volvo, madam). Always pick a place with the curtains drawn - either it's an old couple snoozing or some kind of assignation is taking place which will stagger on long after we have all washed down the birthday cake with lemonade.
The pretty blonde nanny was there in one of her skimpy dresses and she has taken to latching on to me, sometimes physically, and likes to do things like make little jokes and drill her fist into my arm. Another man would, I am sure, take this as a sign of something, but really I'm treated like a woman at these gatherings.
The big moment came when the birthday boy - parents, a brain surgeon (the woman) and father a director at an investment bank (income last year $14.2million, according to my sources) - unveiled his main present. It was driven onto the lawn by a servant and to me looked like a real Mercedes-Benz, but apparently is a toy. I expect the young Master will soon be trolling around the neighbourhood in it, tooting his horn at simpering five year old girls.
The funniest thing about the event though was I was chatting to the blonde and a lawyer mother and we were talking about having more kids (this is number two in the lexicon of baby talk - the first is sleepless nights and the third is how easy other people think it is staying at home with the kids - yes, it's gripping) and I said, I'll be too old to pick them up soon. They wanted to guess how old I was which is always a fun game and they both came in a decade lower than my actual age, which always makes you feel, well, younger. When I told them how old I am, the lawyer looked like she was about to pass out with shock (I imagine it's a ruse she has used on more than one occasion in the courtroom - "really, you never intended to rob that liquor store with your large gun? I say, you do surprise me, and m'lud too if I am not much mistaken!" ) and the pretty blonde drilled her fist into my shoulder and said, "I wish my dad looked as good as you. He'll be your age next year!"
25/10/07 @ 12:51