18 things you think during a childless weekend away

In the past, during the BC era, I was away at least once a month. Just a trip to New York for Fashion Week, then off to Greece for Lancaster, a visit to Paris for a collaboration with a French car brand; it was actually endless. My daughters did complain and whine, but that didn't spoil the fun. It was ‘work’, so it had to be done.

After being pretty much chained to the house for two years (I do work, but from home, so I suddenly became that mother sitting at home with a cup of tea), this weekend it was finally time: I was going to Italy with my love. We had to do all sorts of useful things to legitimize the trip (we have a little house there that we need to visit from time to time), and the flight only went on Thursday and Sunday, which made it quite a long period for me – and for my girls. And then this goes through your mind.

1. What if the plane crashes now, then they have no parents anymore.

2. Should I text a friend to ask if she will take good care of them if we die later?

3. Don't do that. That brings bad luck anyway.

4. What do I hear? I hear something? The engine is failing. I'm sure of it. The flight attendants are still walking calmly. Okay, act normal.

5. Everything goes so fast and smoothly without kids. A bag, your own, your coat, an ID; nothing to worry about.

6. Where shall we eat tonight? Linen, white glove luxury, bring it on.

7. Just texting my parents to see how they are doing.

8. No one responds.

9. Then my one daughter. She is glued to her phone.

10. No response.

11. Then I'll text my youngest.

12. No response either.

13. Should I ask the neighbor to stop by?

14. Soon they will all be dead.

15. A text: they went for a walk. And they are doing well.

16. Is it weird if I ask for a photo with that day's newspaper as proof?

17. I wake up at 9:00 AM and wonder when I last slept for ten hours straight.

18. I eat in a very chic restaurant without the stress of someone pulling at the linen tablecloth and sipping my champagne like proper people do. When we leave, I see a table next to the kitchen, out of sight and next to a couch, and I ask if I can eat there next time with our kids. Because without them it may be tidy and carefree, but I prefer to be complete with them, even if that means having peanut butter in my hair and four bags around my neck. Quickly back home!