Yes. After two-ish weeks and an overgrown body hair situation, I shaved my legs yesterday.
I washed my hair. Which, if you know me, is quite a win.
I also dried my hair. With a blow dryer.
And I put on makeup. And grown-up clothes.
Because my Mr put a date on the calendar.
About three weeks ago, he said, “the 26th. We’re going out!”
We go out on occasion. We are past the tiny tiniest phase. The one where our dates were the 1.5 between feedings. Or having to administer meds before bedtime. And the bedtime scenario these days… we’ve just arrived at simpler times. We’re into the mid-Littles stage. And so.
And it’s not that we never go on dates. It’s how this one went down…
He said, “I’m working on getting a sitter. And we’re going out.”
Ummmmm. I don’t have to secure the sitter?! “What are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise.”
What?! I don’t have to secure the sitter AND it’s a surprise. Best. Date. Ever. Even if we end up at the 7-11 eating slurpees and snowballs. I don’t even care.
“What are you wearing on this date? Like, what should I wear?”
“Well. We’re doing dinner at Lot 2. I can tell you that much. But that’s not the main event.”
Wait. I didn’t have to secure the sitter. It’s still partially a surprise. We are eating at one of my fave locations. And there’s something ELSE.
IS THERE SOMETHING SPECIAL THAT I’M FORGETTING? Anniversary of something?! Celebrating something?! What am I forgetting?
I shaved my legs. I put on eye shadow. I put on white pants that would be free of grabs from the Littles. Pants that had a zipper. And weren’t made out of spandex. And we went out. On a week night.
We went to the restaurant. And took a table for two. We sat across from each other, looked into the white’s of each other’s eyes. We toasted to some recent successes. And he told me to walk to the window. And to look across the street.
The marquee had the name, JOSHUA RADIN on it.
ohhhhh man. This husband of mine… he knows what he’s doing. Josh Radin is one of my fave chill songwriters. I love his raspy smooth voice accompanying my morning coffee. And he’s on my #purebonemix.
“I just heard on Pandora that he was gonna be here. And I know you love him. And I do, too. So week night date night.”
The music was so damn good. From the opener to the closer. The music rocked my bones. And my husband rocked my heart. Because it doesn’t have to be something big tone special. It doesn’t have to be a weekend away. Or a Friday night on the town. A middle-of-the-week rendezvous that he planned. That’s the real deal for a mama in the trenches.
And we drank (I maybe drank a little more than a weeknight amount. Maybe.). And we ate delicious food. And we stood, swaying back and forth to some of my fave music. And felt a little like we were 20 again. Without a care for just a little moment in the middle of the week. And we dated a little more when we got home (wink wink). Because date nights are the best time to date a little more.
It wasn’t a special occasion. But it became one. It became one of my fave memories with just the two of us. Because he planned. Surprised. Just because. And that, for me, was perhaps the best part of it all.
And I’m so glad I did my hair. And took a little extra time on me. And used my big girl purse. And shaved my legs. Because my main squeeze asked me on a date. Like he has been since we met. And even though we are raising kids together… growing a life together… it’s lovely to sometimes feel like we’re just kids again. If even just for the night.