Back when our family was brand new and the grandparents had just become grandparents, a wonderful tradition started called “Date Night“.
This was when a set of newly sleep deprived parents were allowed to pretend for two hours that they still had the energy to stare deeply into each others eyes while the grandparents used it as a regular excuse to spoil the offspring of their children without all the responsibility of dealing with the consequences.
Really, it worked for everyone involved.
And we continued this tradition from the first child until the third was born.
But by the time the fourth child came along….five years ago….the wonderful thing called “Date Night” got absorbed into our busy schedules. For five long years we would have sporadic times of uninterrupted eye contact where I would be brought back to the reality that, “Oh yeah, I’m not just a walking milk-cow with a flabby un-inflated tummy. I’m this handsome guys wife. OH MY GOSH, I’M A WOMAN!”
You’d think that my constant fertility and ability to deliver children would have reminded me of this but nothing quite makes it more clear than a good looking man staring at you over the top of a steaming cup of Starbucks coffee in a place where you don’t have to wash the mugs yourself afterwards.
So…as I was saying.
Date night fell prey to our busy lives and years went by without a regular time for Chris and I to connect.
But I’m happy to report that we have set aside a time once every week to meet for coffee…in a public place…without children….where I can pretend I’m young again, that my tummy is firm, and that this man wants to take me home and lock me in his bedroom with him.
And I’m liking it A LOT!