We haven't done it for ages. Life, jobs and a summer spent on the beach have kept us apart, but this morning the evidence was there. A table full of empty wine bottles told me that I had been 'Ginned'.
Historically it started with tea. The girls and I got together on a Saturday afternoon to escape from the football that was either being played, or watched, by our menfolk. Our children were small, needy and unable to withstand the rigours of shopping that had dominated our Saturdays BC. We huddled around the teapot, exchanging moans whilst our offspring played together and our men went off to bond in shorts!
As the children grew we swapped the pot for a bottle, and the 'Gin Co-operative' was formed. Saturdays became a therapy session that no psychiatrist could compete with. The world was put to rights, mad ideas put into action, personal problems were sorted, and we could face the week again as working mothers.
I came down this morning to find a list telling me that once again we had arranged something under the influence of firewater. New Years Eve promises to be one of the best, but I still can't work out what 'pimps on sticks' are!