Sunday, June 14, 2009

It's Date Night and I Smell Like Horse Manure


Unprompted, Amy's parents offered to come down and watch the kids for us so we could have some husband-and-wife time outside the house. So, in typical Amy and Lee fashion, we decided to use the opportunity to go to that most romantic of settings: Lowes.

In our defense, it is much easier to pick out stuff for the house without Aaron and Jada. And, it was a lot of fun. Still, it probably isn't what you might think a frazzled couple would do if given a rare slice of freedom.

To further round out the specialness of the day, a big part of our shopping list was stuff for our postage-sized front garden, including 10 bags of mulch. Of course, it started raining as we loaded the heavy sacks onto our flatbed cart, and it started pouring - I mean, torrentially pouring - as soon as we were loading the now muddy sacks into Amy's parents' minivan.

After fully playing out in my mind the distressing thought that I had just now filled my in-laws' car with soggy, dirty, and smelly bags of mulch, this second, horrifying thought came to mind: it's date night and I smell like horse manure. And I'm sweaty and have been badly rained on.

Thankfully, we got ourselves home and all the mulch onto our front porch with minimal drama, and I was able to shed my clothes and take a hot shower before we headed out for Part Two of our day without the kids. Having gotten the housework part of our agenda out of the way, we were able to enjoy dinner and dessert at a nearby restaurant within walking distance of home.

We talked a little about the kids - they're such a big part of our lives that it's hard to - but largely covered other matters, glad to have leisurely adult conversations uninterrupted by needing to scold or warn or praise or help someone. At the late hour of 8, we made our way home, the kids safely in bed thanks to their grandparents, and us with a little more sanity in our heads thanks to having some time away to just be adults and enjoy each others' company. Thanks, Granddad and Nina. Now about that funky smell in your car . . .
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