Date Night, Revisited

A few months ago when we were sitting in the den together, Preston said to me, "I think we should have a weekly date night." Since I am usually the one suggesting that we get out and do things like a real, live, married couple, the fact that he had suggested a weekly day night left me completely smitten.

And for a couple of months following Preston's declaration, we did ok. We went to dinner, out for drinks, and, I'm embarrassed to say, to see "Valentine's Day," which is exactly like "Love Actually" except TEN THOUSAND TIMES WORSE. Anyways, so the point is, for a while, we were actually going on dates. Like ADULTS.

And then, somehow, we just stopped. In between a visit to see my Grandmother, the miscarriage, a big Classics lecture weekend, a visit from Preston's brother and his almost sister-in-law...date night completely fell by the wayside. We were lucky if we sat together at the dinner table for more than half an hour. Over the past week or so, however, as life gradually began to feel like normal again, the prospect of date night started to seem welcome again (not to mention necessary). Because we are the least original people ever, we decided to go see the new Tina Fey-Steve Carell movie, "Date Night" for our own date night. HA. We were going to go last night, on Saturday night, and we were both excited because we both have crushes on Tina Fey. [Not even a little bit kidding.]

Except that then I spent all day yesterday studying, and by late afternoon what I REALLY wanted to do on date night was plan our meals for the week, go grocery shopping, and clean the apartment. More specifically, I just wanted to have an easy, predictable night at home. Because I am twenty-four going on seventy.

Preston, that most wonderful of husbands, graciously agreed to have date night at home, and that is exactly what we did. Because we weren't rushing out the door to make a 7:00 movie, we had time to plan our meals, go grocery shopping, and clean the apartment. Preston made pizza for dinner, and we munched on it in the den while we watched the (neverending) Mets game with the dogs at our feet. When Ness had reached her annoyance quotient, we put her into her crate without feeling guilty about it, and watched an instant Netflix movie together. And it was positively perfect, even if it makes me feel a little bit like my Grandmother.