Secret men’s business

On Saturday night Drama Duck, Demon Duck and I were all out at parties and dinners, leaving the menfolk home alone. Before I left I asked Baby Duck what they were going to do while we were gone. He didn’t know.

“It’s a boys’ night!” I said. “You should drink beer and fart a lot.”

“But I don’t like beer.”

Always so pragmatic, that boy! Note he didn’t object to the farting part. In fact his sisters entered the conversation with enthusiasm at that point and it devolved into an attempt to see who could burp the alphabet best. (Demon Duck, as it turns out. Why am I not surprised?)

But the idea had taken hold, and before I left the Carnivore had been sent off to procure takeaway for dinner, and they settled down to watch a trashy comic book movie together. Sheer bliss – even without the beer.

There was some confusion about whether or not the party Demon Duck was at was a sleepover. So they went to pick her up armed with sleeping bag and pyjamas in case she was supposed to be staying.

“I really hope her party is a sleepover,” he told his dad. “Then we can continue our men’s night.”

So cute! I reckon he’ll be trying to shove us all out the door next weekend so he can do it all again.

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