Date Night 8

Date night this week was a bit wonky.  Tuesday came, and Hubby was sick.  He asked if we could postpone for Thursday, which, of course, I agreed to.  Then, when he came home from work Wednesday, he asked what was for dinner.

“Leftovers,” I said.

“Good,” he said.  “Change your clothes, we’re going out.”

I was a bit grumpy, because not a half hour before, I’d changed with relief into lounge pants and was planning on an evening spent in a vegetable-like state (read couch-potato here).  I protested.

“Date night isn’t tonight!  It’s Thursday, remember?”

“Yes,” he said, “and I forgot that I have praise team practice that night, so we need to go out tonight, and since you don’t have anything in the crockpot, we’re good to go.”

Well, you can’t argue with logic like that.

So, I changed, and we headed out for Applebee’s, where we took advantage of the 2 for $24 special and had steaks instead of leftovers.  Not that my leftovers are second rate, ya’ll, but they weren’t steak.

Then, we shared one of the maple nut blondies and angels sang.  I LOVE that dessert.  I’ve tried to duplicate it at home, but it wasn’t as good, and was a tremendous amount of work, and I almost sent myself into a diabetic coma with the sauce. Nom-nom!

Because I had been forced out of lounge pants, I was still feeling a bit, well, shall we say Puck-ish.  Everywhere that we went, I questioned my hubby’s choice of path.  Why turn here instead of the next light?  Why go around this way instead of that way?  Partly, I wanted to know, and partly, I just wanted to irritate him.  From the restaurant, we went to Target and picked up some duck tape, then headed home. 

On the way home, I couldn’t resist poking him One. More. Time.  There are several routes to get from the mall to our home.  I have the way I think is fastest, and he has his way.  His way is wrong, of course, and he can’t defend the choice, but he likes it and he’s sticking to it. (The last time he tried to prove me wrong about one of these directional choices, he made us 20 minutes late (a complete no-no in his book) because he had to sit and wait for a train, a point I had made Several Times.)  So anyway, he’s tooling down the road, makes a turn, and I said, “Why did you go this way?”

He’d Had It.  He  pulled his shoulders back, gritted his teeth and opened his mouth to let me have it and I just absolutely cracked up.  I laughed and laughed and laughed.  I laughed until I had tears in my eyes.  I laughed until I started coughing.  And then, I laughed some more.  The look on his face!  It was priceless.  And just exactly what the Puck-ish demon in me was hoping for.  Finally, he was able to chuckle a bit at himself.  Sheepishly, he admitted that if I hadn’t started laughing, we’d have had a knock-down-drag-out fight.

Aren’t we funny about the things that set us off?  How about you?  Is there a point of contention between you and a loved one that makes you crazy?  I hope you can laugh about it now and then.  It clears out the lungs nicely.

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2 Responses to Date Night 8

  1. Ashana M says:

    I was on my last nerve with one of my students who was totally incorrigible and his parents had no control over him. He kept throwing paper balls. Not particularly hard–just a few feet in front of him. Enough to annoy me and potentially disrupt the lesson (which was what he was trying to accomplish). In writing something on the board, I substituted “paper balls” for “polynomials.” When I saw what I’d written, I completely lost it. I laughed so hard, I had to sit down and wipe the tears out of my eyes. It had been a long morning and I so needed that laugh.

  2. awnali says:

    That’s great! I bet your student was pretty proud of himself for throwing you off, but it seems like you handled it with a lot of grace.

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