Best Date Night

Date night these days, although still enjoyable, usually does not involve leaving the house. We snuggle on the couch, rent a movie, sometimes play cards, and spend time together. With two kids under six, and babysitters hard to find, Mr. Man and I rarely see a movie on the big screen or go out to dinner. So when the opportunity arose, we found a niece to watch the kids and we headed out for a backyard party at a friend's.

Of course, as soon as we get there, someone says "aw, they didn't bring the kids."

So, we wish our friend, "happy birthday" and present the cake that we made for the occasion, and submerse ourselves in adult conversation, other peoples' lives, and stories. Drinks all around, plenty of food, and Mr. Man gets a text that our dog has run away.

Now our relationship with our dog is somewhat cyclical. It's good for awhile, then he does something bad and we want to get rid of him. Then we get over it, and it's good for awhile....you get the idea. Eight year relationship. Lots of damage.

Some of the things doggo has done are:

- chew every piece of new furniture we have had in the first five years of his life

- eat five pairs of shoes, pounds and pounds of fondant, three decorating tips, and one bike helmet (adult size)

- brought home a deer leg

- rolls in everything smelly

- escapes out of the yard to roll in something smelly, bring home a deer leg (our neighbours are hunters), or to eat someone's trash

So when we got the text, we did not rise up out of our chairs right away but weighed our options. Chances are he would come back in an hour, barf in the back yard and have diarrhea for three days. BUT the kids had already looked in his regular haunts and was nowhere to be found. Do we enjoy our evening a little longer or do we search for doggo before it got too dark? We packed up.

So our first official summer date night involved walking up and down the streets and creeks of our little town whistling for our dog. We even separated and I drove around a bit. By 9:30pm we gave up as it was too hard to see and hoped he'd come home on his own.

But our sitter was still there, so we decided to make one last ditch effort to have a date. We hopped in the car and drove half and hour to the nearest city. We started to yawn about halfway there.

"Do you want ice cream?"

"No.... Do you want to go to the movies?"

"No, I'll just fall asleep. I thought we'd walk along the boardwalk."

"I don't know.... Don't you think it might be dangerous?"

"(Sigh) Why did we come here?"

So we drove down to the boardwalk and even before we got out of the car, quickly decided perhaps it wasn't a good idea, and losing one dog would be hard enough on the kids, let alone death by mugging.

"So what now? Coffee?"

We went into Starbucks and ordered two grande hot chocolates (extravagant, I know), and settled into the big, red, overstuffed arm chairs. Ah, what a good idea! With a big smile on my face, I think, this was worth the drive. Just then, the barista starts emptying the garbage cans and overturning the smaller, wooden chairs.

"What time do you close?" Mr. asks.

"10:30" was his answer. That gave us ten minutes of snuggly red chair time and a brief conversation of some deep topic you are supposed to have over a Starbucks drink. I think I asked him about work. Sigh.

So we were off again, with hot chocolates in hand and walked over to the movie theatre. There would be a movie starting in forty minutes. A three hour movie. A really great movie; the end of an era, actually, but three hours long. Suddenly we felt really tired. And a little bit old.

So we drove home, snuggled under the duvet, and Mr. Man watched reruns of his favourite show on my laptop while I slept, dreaming of our missing dog, and deer legs.