This is Del and I on Sunday. Being a young and carefree couple, out for a night of fun.
(Photo courtesy of friendly drunk guy dancing behind us)
Except we're not.
Carefree, that is.
Or that young really.
Which is why it's Tuesday and I'm still recovering.
We managed to escape on our own for the night and go to a Motown music event held at a nearby winery. And boy, what a night.
We danced like crazy under the full moon, listening to the greatest Motown songs, sung by a plethora of famous, no make that legendary, Motown performers.
Let me reel off this list of names with accompanying songs for your your listening pleasure :
Mary Wilson from the Supremes
The Four Tops
Martha Reeves and the Vandellas
Oh my, what a night! I would have said that even if our night had ended when the concert finished.
But it didn't end there. Oh, no it didn't.
We got a personal invitation to the after party. Well, along with every other person in the crowd.
You see, the MC, who just happened to be Charles Davis from the Contours, gave an open invite to go back to his hotel room after the show to continue the party.
AND OMG - HE GAVE THE NAME OF THE HOTEL!!!
Del and I looked at each other, and instantly there was no doubt in either of our minds. We had to get to that hotel.
Forget about my Dad and stepmother Mela sitting at our house, supervising Kaiden our 14 year old who was given babysitting duties for the evening.
Forget that Charlie wakes up at 5am every morning. Which means I have to get up at 5am every morning.
Forget that I'm a sleep deprived, 30-something mother, with extremely sore feet from dancing for the past 3 hours in totally unsuitable footwear (my high heel retro looking boots were the only ones that looked right with my blue and green retro mini dress - I was going for the 60's look alright).
The mere chance of being in the same hotel as these legends, let alone the chance of maybe even meeting some of them, was just too much to resist. As soon as the music ended for the night, we rushed it to the exit to wave down the first taxi we could find.
Except, if truth be told, Del rushed, I limped.
And eventually I had to take off my fabulous but totally impractical boots. I could then rush, barefoot through the dirt and grass. Very classy.
In the back of the taxi I was trying hard to ignore my body's desire to fall asleep (it was 10.30 pm after all), willing myself to stay awake long enough to see where this night would go. Once upon a time I could party all night, every night. Surely now I would be able to manage just one night. Surely.
(to be continued)