Hooters

I’d arrived in Perth midday when text messages started flooding in from Mr G. Understand that I’d left the three of them home while I ran off to Australia for another conference and was feeling incredibly guilty about it. Mr G is on antibiotics, Jane and Alexander need me and if the dog gets walked it will be a miracle. I’m feeling like a terrible mother and an even worse wife when I read the first text.

It started with a picture of my family eating at Hooters.

The text said: Saturday night…. Part 1…. Dinner at Hooters. Stay tuned more to come

And my head started to hurt because everything about Hooters is wrong.

Then the next photos arrived.

The text: Saturday night part 2

Text: show about to start. Kids don’t know what to make of this. Last second Saturday night surprise I dumped on them.

And then there was video

I’m dying of envy in a very small part because I’d have liked to see The Stones, but in a much larger part because I’d have liked to be there when my kids saw The Stones.

The Hooters… that’s just unspeakable.