Spontaneity is a thing that we all take for granted and, likewise, the thing that we mostly forget once we are embroiled in work, life, and adulthood.
Last week, my husband and I decided that we’d have a date night. We called upon the babysitting services of that family favourite everywhere, namely Grandma, and planned our evening.
When my mum arrived, she enquired as to our plans, and we told her that we were, predictably, off to the cinema.
We laughed merrily at the fact that we are so unspontaneous and set off accordingly but, somewhere between the house and Gunwharf, a strange thing happened.
Both myself and my husband had a rogue thought, a little moment of ‘what if’.
We looked at each other and suggested, somewhat wildly, that we throw caution to the wind.
To hell with these plans and the set time of the film and a hot dog, we said. Away with this incessant military-style organisation and the thought of spending an evening sat listening to actors talk instead of listening to each other.
Yes the night-time cinema is dark and devoid of over-excited children, but then I expect Ted Bundy’s cellar was too, and I wouldn’t think much of spending a romantic evening down there either.
Having taken our fate into our own hands we swerved the car recklessly into a different lane and pulled the top down, the hydraulics bouncing like a pair of West Coast gangsta lowriders listening to Dr Dre’s Nuthin’ but a ‘G’ Thang. In an alternate universe.
Back on earth, we did a mirror, signal, manoeuvre, changed lanes carefully whilst listening to Radio 2, and performed a spot of parallel parking, having decided to go out for a meal and gaze lovingly at each other, instead of at Hollywood’s finest in the dark.
Admittedly, this wouldn’t get us far in the Spontaneity Awards 2015, but we felt pretty pleased with ourselves.
We had a lovely evening with delicious food, a lot of laughs, and a fabulous late night wander through the dark – always pleasing because people generally have their lights on but their curtains still open, allowing one to snoop and swoon at the beautiful interiors (or is that just us?)
Everyday life isn’t always conducive to spontaneity, but when you get the chance to do something off the cuff, then grab it.
Our walk on the not-so-wild side may have been tame, but I can tell you it felt pretty liberating.
Verity Lush is a 38-year-old mum-of-two who lives in Portsmouth.
She is a tutor in philosophy, English and maths and has written a book for newly-qualified teachers, plus textbooks and articles for teaching magazines and supplements.