About ten years ago, young and cool and living a single London life, I shared a flat with my best mate. Oh who am I kidding, there's nothing cool about cheap wine and nightbuses, but we were young and we were single and we did have a flat in (a crap bit of) London. And we went out all the time. Parties and receptions and performances and dinners. It rarely stopped. And I remember I once said to my flatmate, this is great this being young and cool with a thriving social life, but you know, I also like watching nature documentaries and I don't ever do that anymore.
And she said, ah, but remember when you have settled down and have a family all you will do is sit down in front of the telly and watch nature documentaries. And I said yes, I suppose so.
But so far, turns out we were wrong. For starters, neither of us anticipated that our partners might not want to watch the same as us. But mainly we just never could have guessed that after an exhausting day, after bathtime and bedtime, after cooking dinner and exchanging hellos with the ones we love, after putting the washing on and opening the post and tidying away the day's toys, there just isn't the time to fit a single lion killing an antelope in before bed.