Desperate housewives lunch

I spent the morning making phone calls about the house build and simultaneously pretending to be a girl while my daughter pretended to be my Mammy taking me on a day trip to see a Katie Morag show. I had a day off from the nursery run today so after dear daughter was despatched I took the baby for a walk to the site to talk to the joiners and check on progress. They weren't there today but it didn't matter as they will be there for the rest of the week and so I arranged for the forklift and driver to be on site to lift wall panels and roof trusses. With a rare couple of hours to kill and the sun blazing in the sky I called in on my good friend and future neighbour I for a yarn and to feed my baby and change his nappy. Our friend C called in and the three of us with our three buggies went to the hotel for lunch.  The last time I had been there we had all left well past closing time and rather the worse for wear. Today, we were on the diet cokes and making plans for our Sunday outing to see Sex and the City in Inverness followed by a meal. Chief among our concerns is of course what to wear. "Is a strapless dress too much? Just right", they assured me. Lunch arrived on a tray with a note from the chef saying, "I wish I was a desperate housewife!" On days like this the life of a housewife is not bad at all.