DURING a snatched break, while waiting for Eve to wake from her morning nap and the washing machine to finish its spin cycle, I rang my friend Gemma for a chat. She sounded depressed.

When I asked what the problem was, she said her life was boring. I told her she was talking rubbish. This is a woman who goes to yoga three times a week, plays bridge with her buddies on Tuesdays and is always off on weekend jaunts with various men friends. She has no commitments apart from the usual job/mortgage necessities and is free to browse in bookshops on her days off. She gets drunk when she wants to and can sleep till noon on a Sunday if she feels like it.

Isaid I didn't envy her bridge parties, even though she claims they're "a great laugh," but in comparison with my daily routine of child care, tidying up and home decorating debates with my spouse, hers is a fun-filled merry-go-round.

Ireminded her that the last time my husband and I had a night out together was before Christmas.

"You're right," she said, cheering up immediately. "Your life is utter tedium."

It was my turn to be depressed. When my husband dragged his weary self in from work that evening, I said we must take up our neighbour's offer to babysit for us so that we could get our social life back on track. He perked up. He cast aside his Reader's Digest Complete DIY Manual and went into overdrive with suggestions as to what we could do.

"Let's have a meal, see a film and then go dancing. Or there might be something good on at the theatre, and we could meet up with some friends for drinks. But I'd really like to go dancing ... please, please?" My husband is the sort who'd eat a whole box of chocolates in one go.

Last Thursday we did it. We left Eve under a watchful eye and hit Brighton. First a quick main course at the Dorset Bar, enjoyed without the embarrassment of our regurgitating baby. Then, with wild abandon, we skipped across the road to the Komedia to see a farce about the NHS. There were only 12 of us in the audience and it wasn't much good, but at least we were among People Who Go Out.

Indeed, we bumped into a couple we know who want to start a family this year and who are doing as much socialising as possible before they end up as sad stay-ins like us.

It had just gone ten when the play finished, which left us time for a drink and possibly an hour of dancing. Tragically, we were too tired to do either. So we bought bars of chocolate from the shop near the station and got a cab home. By 10.30pm we were fast asleep.

For most people this would have been an average, if not disappointing, night out. But when you have nothing to compare it with . . .

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