Herself made some passing comment the other evening about going to the Cyndi Lauper farewell tour coming to Belfast. As if I knew about it already. I genuinely didn’t. She really thought I did, probably because herself and her friends have been talking about it soo much. She said that she’d told me that I’d be looking after the kids. I reflected momentarily then defaulted to the tried and tested, “I don’t remember getting a message about it”. She frowned, temporarily stunned by my adroit parry. We both pulled out our phones.

Yes, messaging important dates is now part of the agreed protocol between my wife and I. History repeatedly proved (yes, we were slow learners) that details delivered orally were often forgotten, mixed up or denied (allegedly – no proof was ever forthcoming). So, in the interests of a supportive and accountable relationship we now put notable dates in WatsApp messages. This gives adequate time for panic, excuse making and general avoidance of responsibility by the other party. If no response is raised to said date / fixture / summons then the entry stands. Do you need your partner to hold the fort because you just wanna have fun in your forties? Put it in writing first. Only then can fun happen. It’s that simple. Apparently super couples use a shared digital calendar and their kids can join in the family adventure once they’re old enough. Pat your chosen Calendar App on the logo if you recognise yourself here. Well done you.

On this occasion I searched my WatsApp messages. There was no mention of Cyndi Lauper or a concert in Belfast nor the phrase “just wanna have fun”. I even narrowed my search to the word “fun” but it only appeared as part of the frequently repeated words funeral and fundraising. The message thread was in this respect bereft of actual fun. I had my proof. Lauper was never officially flagged.

However in the interests of unanimity I asked her to give me the date of said shindig. I think I even said something witty like, “Do girls just wanna let me know when this is happening?” She took out her phone and promptly got ambushed by seven unopened messages including one labelled “urgent” from the dog groomer. I would have chided her distractibility as unbecoming of an adult however I too succumbed to the never-ending destroyer of the modern love story, the Nothing that is my mobile phone. Yes, we both got distracted. And life, well, it just went on, the kids walked in and there was no further fun or mention of future plans for wanting to have fun.

Until an hour ago.

Something inspired me to search up the date of the imminent Lauper fun. And I’ve secretly put it in my calendar knowing that someday soon she’ll panic and ask me about it again. By that point I’ll have rehearsed a nonchalant reply like, “I thought you had cancelled that? Didn’t I message you since to say I was staying over in Sligo for a work field day on the 16th?”
And she’ll say, “Shite! You didn’t did you? But we’ve accommodation booked.”
And I’ll say stick to my guns for at least a minute before admitting, “You’re right, I didn’t” and I’ll give her a cheeky smile and she’ll be delighted.
And you know why I’ll create this ephemeral pantomime?

Cause when your in your forties ye can’t be waiting for nights out to have all your fun.