Since then my mind has slowly unravelled all over place – from flashmobbing Trafalgar Square in the name of flexible working to quietly crying into my soggy cornflakes on a bad parental day. But finding places that don’t make you feel like you’ve walked in with an actual orang-utan – you know the looks: A child? Here? Who are these people? – remains essential to my mental wellbeing.
Cue the Haymarket Hotel’s High Tea – the perfect merger of parental happiness and child entertainment. Despite the achingly pristine realms, this is the sort of place that welcomes both mama and life appendage with open arms. If anything, the kid is more the focus, which makes everything easier from the get-go.
Needless to say, Mae took to her adult role with aplomb. After ploughing into a few pillowy soft ham sandwiches, my Mum (Grandmother Pukka) and I were able to string a couple of sentences together over some fizz. Three sentences in a row with Mae there is a life record before she usually elbows some glassware onto the floor, ensuring all eyes nervously dart towards us.
But the waiter kept bringing a slew of kid-friendly apparel – crayons, drawing, Gruffalo-theme cakes. It was the kid version of the Generation Game conveyor belt; We didn’t know what was going to pop-up next.
Now there was, of course a spillage. It was apple juice and it meant a table cloth change but once more we were made to feel no shame. These guys were versed in handling the general catastrophe that surrounds a toddler. With a few more eclairs under our belt and another string of sentences blathered, I can honestly say it was one of the most relaxing times the three of us have had in posh realms.
While I’m no longer hitting the town as much as I used to, this still felt like going out OUT.