An adults-only meal in a restaurant.
Later on it won't bother you in the least when you're scraping formula off your freshly dry-cleaned suit and the chubby-cheeked, toothless smile and giggle you get for merely putting a tea towel over your face will make your night.
Everybody needs a break. From their hubby, their wife, their kids. Just a short one. So that you're turbo-charged to be the best mammy you can be.
As a mother of a six-month-old and a two-year-old, I thank God for 'no children' restaurants and 'no children' spas.
They were clearly devised by parents, clever ones, who know that sometimes you need an hour to yourself to channel your inner Supermom and be a contender for Mother of Year.
That beautiful sound of hardly any sound -- is this a restaurant or a wellness centre?
There are endless child-friendly restaurants. Dozens to accommodate the ridiculous buggies we all have, with lots of floor space for bags overflowing with nappy creams and toys and crayons for your older child.
BYOB here means it's plastic with a level three teat.
When I go out for a meal myself I'd like toddlers and babies off the menu, thanks.
If I'm up for a side order of crying with my meal, I'll go to the child-friendly ones. When I'm not, I'd like a child-free zone.
It's not the kids' fault, no one should expect babies and toddlers to have table manners.
But nothing ruins your appetite like a child who wants to play bawl -- rather than ball -- on your hour off.