There are only two groups of people who make plans to go out after 10 p.m.: those answering a booty call and moms. It's possible there is a third group composed of moms looking for a booty call, but based on my expertise from being a parent for 2 1/2 years, I'm going to say that is very unlikely.

And I know what you are thinking: "What about the vampires?" To this, I say A) they are not people, and B) I'm pretty sure they fall into one of the two groups. I've seen "True Blood." Those sexy Nordic blood hounds are only after one thing, and it doesn't include calling you in the morning or meeting your mother.

Prior to marrying my husband and having my son, I was familiar with late-night meetup plans. Back when the streetlamps lit up an evening of possibility. I creatively coined that time "college."

Little did I know back then that sharing the moonlit roads with me were moms. Moms! Moms who were possibly less dressed than I was. Not intentionally, of course. They had just simply forgotten to put on pants that day.

Moms, as I have now discovered, take to the streets at these scandalous hours because — wait for it — it's the only time they can.

By the time I'm done working my full-time job, spending time with my kid, making dinner, reading books with him, bathing him, going through his bedtime routine and cleaning up the daily damage of my toddler tornado, it's a miracle if I can leave the house by 9:30 p.m. So 10 p.m. is what I aim for. That's when I plead for my friends to meet me.

"My mom told me only bad things happen when someone asks to see you after prime-time TV has ended," my friend said in her typical dry, sarcastic Daria tone.

"We don't have to go out," I said. "You can come over here, or I can go to your house."

"Mrs. Langrock, are you trying to seduce me?"

Oh, if only.

My late-night hangout sessions are a product of necessity and wonderfully pathetic. There is no heavy partying or drinking as one might infer by the late hour. The visits are short, as I have either work in the morning or a toddler who simply needs to build a pirate ship with blocks before the sun comes up. There is no dressing up, dressing down or undressing. There is no loud music or dancing; on the rare occasions I get to see my friends, I'm not apt to waste them by not being able to hear a word they say. There is no spontaneity. No seeing where the night takes us. It is a very calculated plan to not disappear from my social life in two-hour increments across many months of late-night rendezvous.

There is a reason I didn't notice the late-night moms when I was younger. It's that there is really nothing to notice. The moms may be headed to an exciting evening of Boggle and Apples to Apples, but the non-mom's evening promises to involve far more games.

And though these booty call receptionists don't see me walking the city streets, I love seeing them — especially when the girls trip on their stilettos. But even when I'm being partially blinded by the full moonlight reflecting off their copious bling, I enjoy the sight.

There is a joy in watching the younger, the untethered — a joy that comes from feeling that in this moment, I know I've done something right. Passing the non-moms in the streets brings back fond memories. Passing these non-moms on the streets makes me feel alive for being out myself.

Does my body scream at me for sleep deprivation? Yes. Is it effort to leave my house once I've put on slippers and unzipped my pants? Duh.

But on these rare nights, I've decided not to fade into the darkness of mommydom. On these rare nights, I've stayed out late enough to be illuminated by streetlamps. On these rare nights, I'm out on a mommy call.

In the words of the great philosopher Bill Pullman: "We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive!"

Granted, he was talking about aliens attacking Earth on Independence Day, not mothers, but I'm pretty sure it still applies.

Like Katiedid Langrock on Facebook, at http://www.facebook.com/katiedidhumor. Check out her column at http://didionsbible.com. To find out more about Katiedid Langrock and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.