"You can't do that"!

We've just returned from a wonderful 4 days in Melbourne. Visiting family and partying on with friends at the Vicroads Annual Ball.
Imagine this, 8 adults (supposed to be) in a people mover (funnily enough, owned by the couple who DON'T have children - 'you can't do that Roddy!'), high on the excitement of being together once again, once a year, all the girls dolled up to the nines and all the boys very smart indeed in their penguin/not so penguin suits, carrying a roadie and all talking all at once to each other and screaming with laughter. Roddy was instructing Bronnie how to get to Albert Park Lake using the GPS, Johnny overriding the GPS and making us 45 minutes late by taking us up Hoddle Street in peak hour on a saturday nighter after the football - 'You can't do that Johnny!". That was us sober. 6 hours later we're in the same van, laughing and carrying on and yelling about what happened to us during the night (enough squeaky fish for all the children, a beautiful cream dress and lots of red wine, a breathalyser and two silly wives, a husband, his dicky knee and loads of dancing ('you can't do that'!), and a silly husband and enough balloons for all the children AND their friends). Bronnie trying hard to drive safe (sober), Roddy in the passenger seat stuffing around with the GPS (definitely not sober), in the middle is Donnie and Johnny W trying to catch up on a year of childrearing stories, Morena trying not to climb out the window, actually who knows what Johnny W was doing, he was in the safe seat trying not to get car sick. In the back is Johnny F and Craig and I. I'd had meltdown hours ago, Craig was looking forward to an international flight in just under 4 hours later and Johnny? Johnny was yelling out the window to the L plater in the lane next to us 'you can't do that'! - the L plater's instructor was asleep in the seat beside her!
Another loud, happy year all together at the Vicroads Ball. bliss.