Last night my parents visited the Town Hall Public House.
I had no idea. They never go to pubs. In the seven-odd years since they pooled their DNA, they have never once gone to a pub. But this week their little spawns P and V went off to Victoria to visit Nana and Papa, so they had a “date night.”
I should have known they would act on their temporary childlessness. I mean, Scary and I both know the house changes a bit with the kids away. We know, for instance, not to be anywhere near the bathroom lest we catch one of those eye-searing glimpses of my dad naked. And the bedroom? ‘Nuff said. The last apparition any of us bears wants to see is that of my parents reveling in “alone time.”
But a pub?? OMG, I had no idea they’d go to a pub. I thought, if they ever did, they would at least take me along. I could have ridden in a purse like Scary did when they went to see Avatar.
The Town Hall Public House is a gorgeous establishment with massive antique chapel doors, an imported English fireplace, and a thick, polished bar made from an old church pulpit. Flat-screen TVs shed a comfy light on solid wood tables with comfy leather stools. There are over a dozen beers on tap, including INNIS & GUNN, which I smelled on my parents when they returned last night, plus a generous array of craft beers and unusual wines. I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO GO THERE, PEOPLE!!!
I feel…
I can’t see the computer screen; my tears are blurring the page.
Froggert feels the same way whenever we omit him from our trips out. Sometimes he smuggles himself in my purse and bursts out saying “It’s reverse Home Alone time!”
Froggert is so smart. I should do that too…just jump in the purse. But usually I don’t even pay attention to my parents. I never expect them to do anything interesting.