This is what a conversation with my husband would have been like in 2001.
"Hey Love of My Life. How about we go out for sushi?
"Oh, that's a splendid idea, Dear. Let's leave in 5 minutes. Have I mentioned how gorgeous you are today? I don't tell you that nearly enough. Sometimes I am just overwhelmed by how lucky I am to be married to you Sweetie. You are the wind beneath my wings. Mmmmm. Sushi sounds scrumptious."
It would have gone something like that. He might not have said the part about sushi sounding scrumptious.
Fast forward to 2011 and a sushi dinner with my husband is now referred to as a "date" instead of two people who are married just going out together.
It now requires two days notice, a babysitter, several Facebook status updates about the date, leaving work early to clean and sadly, a Groupon.
I called him on Thursday and suggested "how about we get Miss Cassie to watch the kids on Friday and we can go use that sushi Groupon."
"Why???" wasn't exactly the response I was hoping for, but I let him overcome his initial confusion of his wife suggesting to do something that doesn't involve kids. He agreed. Ah, love is in the air!!!
I was determined that we wouldn't talk about kids, paint colors or Charlie Sheen (because we always get in a fight about him).
Here's a shot of us while we were preparing for her to arrive (she was a few minutes early). Poor, poor Cassie.
I spent the rest of the day strangely "excited" about our date. So excited that I actually felt like I was kind of cheating on him since I was looking forward to an activity with HIM. That doesn't happen.
Like the complete dork that I am, I kept referring to it as a "Hot Date." ("Hot Date" is actually in Billy Crystal's voice from When Harry Met Sally in my head.) Then it occurred to me that if I kept calling it "hot" it wasn't actually hot at all. Lame.
Friday rolled around and I had to leave the office early to clean up for Cassie so she didn't think that we live like heathens. It's important to note that we DO live like heathens, we just don't want Justin's teacher to know that.
So I hauled it home to clean up and remove the following items from my kitchen table: a green feather boa, a report card, two clip boards, a pair of $107 compression hose, a Nintendo DS, a container of beads and sunscreen. And by "remove from my kitchen table," I mean "move onto the dining room table." They are still sitting there along with a cardboard box of other oddities.
I left to get the kids (where we watched some teenagers get arrested out the school window - but that's a story for another blog post) and got home to resume Operation Don't Call Child Welfare on Us. Justin took my lead and wet one of my expensive hand towels in the sink and began trying to clean crayon off the wall.
My Date arrived home with chicken strips for the kids, I showered, painted my toenails and we read the kids the riot act regarding manners, not walking on furniture and hitting.
We took that self portrait of ourselves in the kitchen because this was a special occasion. Then we had Cassie take this one. I'm trying to teach him a lesson about smiling for pictures so I'm going to use it even though he looks drunk (which ironically, he was not). All's fair in love and blogging Baby!
As we walked up to the restaurant we heard the sound of what was either a parrot or an extraordinarily annoying child a few doors down in the plaza. We picked a table outside and quickly determined that it was a parrot...because it kept squawking over and over and over and over...
To the left of us was a 60-something couple on their first date and much to my delight, it was quiet (other than Polly) and they spoke loudly. "Awesome, now we don't even need to talk!" She was divorced, had two kids, the son lives in NY, has a couple of grand kids, traveled in Israel, etc. I had plenty to keep me occupied.
Look at my hot date. He's so hot.
After we ordered, the Class Act I'm married to told me he was going to step away for a smoke. When I protested, he decided to give Polly a run for her money and squawk as loud as he could in reply. Yes, my husband squawked like a parrot in a public place on our hot date and everyone turned around to look. And it made me laugh hysterically long enough to not be able to protest again when he walked away for his cigarette.
The food arrived and I quickly scarfed down a few pieces while he was gone. Note the empty chair in the photo above.
Sushi was yummy. There would be conversation about a Groupon laser hair removal offer (and I used names of people he knows. He was grossed out. Sorry E.C. and A.E. - it's a funny story).
Date was over...or was it? We called Cassie and told her that we were going over "to frolic like lovers on the beach and we'll be home within the hour." It would be a quick frolic.
So there we were walking hand and hand down the beach looking like a couple from a Viagra commercial. I rolled up my jeans (like a smart person) and he didn't. Instead he walked through the water completely soaking the bottom of his jeans.
"Why didn't you roll up your jeans Hot Date?"
"Because even if I roll them up they'll still end up getting wet and not only will they be wet, but they'll also have sand in them."
"You're an idiot."
We took 10 more steps, the water came up and got my rolled-up pants wet.
"Well, at least I don't have sand in them..." Yes, I totally had sand in them. He's allowed to be right every once in a while.
"That was awesome when I made that bird sound. Shut that Mother F#$%*r right up." Yes, he really said this as we were holding hands on the beach. So romantic.
As we walked back to the car we commented on a big mansion that we both love. "You know, we should paint the house like that with the green and white with black shutters."
Crap! I talked about paint colors. But by God - another Charlie Sheen argument did not ruin my Hot Date!
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