I literally do not know when I last had a date with Alif. I know that we haven't had one since Canaan was born. Did we have one when I was pregnant with him? Hmm, not that I can remember. The last time I remember going on date night was when my friend Cyndi and I used to trade off babysitting once a month. That was a long, long time ago.
I do remember that the last time we went on a date I had such a nice time. We had fun conversation, saw a movie - or did we? Maybe we only went out to dinner. Oh my GOSH, maybe our last date was when we bought Caris a walking toy. She is five years old now! Holy cow. Ok anyway, we got home and I said that I loved date night and did he have fun? And do you know how he responded? "I don't really like date night."
I *know*. Me too.
Then when he saw the shocked and hurt expression on my face he said, "I really just like being at home with you. We can relax, let our hair down, watch TV and laugh together . . . I just don't really like going out."
There went date night.
But sometimes a girl's gotta have some romance! A nice dinner where she feels a little giggly and shy with this man to whom she's been married for t-e-n years. She wants to put on her heels and walk sexy and hold hands with her husband instead of her kids. She wants to carry a cute little clutch instead of a diaper bag. And she wants to ride in his big, manly truck instead of the family minivan. Even if that does add $150 to the cost of the date in gas alone.
If anyone sees my husband out and about, would you elbow him and tell him to ask me out on a date? I promise to kiss and not tell.