There’s something about hearing the words “date night,” that make my skin crawl. Nothing will make me say no to an outing faster. You’d think hubs would learn by now that it’s not the best approach, but hey, we’ve only been together 15 years. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with Hubs. It’s the amount of pressure and anxiety that mounts each time he looks at me with those hopeful eyes and the weight those words carry.
One of the greatest phrases in my life is “Parent’s Night Out.” All of the words in the world in any combination of positive expression will never accurately explain the euphoria I feel when these words appear in my email. For why, you ask, do I have such joy when surely I must have these nights all the time?!
Not so, my friends. Not so.
As I sit here reveling in a glorious half hour all to my sweet self, my thoughts turn to my impending “Date Day” with my husband. How did I score 30 whole minutes, you ask? My mother is working again this morning, so he offered again to take Miss O for a stroll. He really wants this date day. This time, I took my own advice and planted my bum firmly on this couch.
So…back to Date Day #2.
Suburban Jackpot 