I walked up to it, late because Bodhi had had a late nap and taken an hour and a half to get to sleep. It turned out it was just as well, as when I got there at 9.30, a small group of parents, more mums than dads, were collected nervously at the far end of the hall.
As I walked in to the school, I was struck with how exactly it felt as if I was going to a school disco. And not a secondary school disco, a primary school one.
I cracked open the wine and worked hard at catching up. There was tasty chips and dip, and cheerful mothers vacillating between enthusiasm and amusement, along with a definite regret that this is what a night out comes to these days.
Before I was a glass in, the self conscious mum dancing started, in a little circle in the middle of the empty floor, disco ball flashing (ha, Bear in the Big Blue House potty training DVD is on in the background, and I just wrote 'splashing' instead of flashing).
I sat and watched and waited for the dance urge to come upon me. You can't force these things.
On one hand the whole set up was sort of touching and heartwarming and fun, and on the other hand it was really... pathetic.
Still, as one of the organisers and I said, it's music, and nibbles and nice wine and company, and you don't have to dance, and unlike the old days, there is no pressure to get off with anyone. I'm sorry it was so badly attended, I don't really get it. We presumably send our kids to an ET school because we want that sense of involvement and community, but then feck all people show up. It's depressing.
As it was, I nearly killed the whole bottle of wine, and had a happy dance, and talked to a lovely Chinese woman who'd also been to the Pixies the week before and was married to a member of Toasted Heretic, a band I remember from the heyday of the Irish music scene.
So I can't say it was cool, but it was what it was. Feck it, you have to take your drunken fun where you may.