My husband and I ended up on an impromptu date night last night. Actually, we do those a lot. I think its our way of justifying eating out instead of going home and cooking. But no matter, I absolutely love our impromptu date nights and it has nothing to do with not cooking. Its because it means we won’t eat staring at the tv… we eat looking at each other.
Yesterday, it was day three or four of overcast, dreary skies. I’ve lost count already, but the funk I found myself in couldn’t be denied. My husband is a bit under the weather, but we both just wanted to get out of the house. Despite gas prices, I went, “Let’s just go for a drive.” So we did. No destination in mind. Just drove.
I don’t know how long we drove, nor did I pay much attention to how far, but eventually it grew dark and our stomachs started to growl. However, we were listening to a radio program that we didn’t want to stop listening to, yet. I suggested we “take the long way” back to downtown Nashville, and then we could eat at our favorite corner bar. Hubby liked the idea, and that’s what we did. We took the long way back, and we probably averaged just under 40 mph the whole time. Still, we somehow got to our destination faster than we wanted, but with stomachs growling, we parked and went to eat.
And you know what happened? Last night, we didn’t talk about work. We didn’t talk about bills, groceries or laundry. We didn’t talk about current events. We talked about each of us individually. Sharing stores from “back in the day” and growing up. It was like we were dating again, just getting to know each other. I think had another patron in the bar not started smoking a cigar, we’d have stayed at least another hour just talking. But with my husband under the weather, we agreed he needed to get away from the smoke. So we headed home and called it a night.
We went on an impromptu date, only this time it definitely wasn’t just an excuse to not cook. This was a DATE. And I loved it.
