She who goes on a lot of dates…

If one were to decide to randomly label this past weekend with a theme, said theme would be dating…

Why is that, you might ask?

Because dating is all that I did.

On Friday afternoon I took my youngest to an eye appointment {will pretend that nothing stressfully evil happened there, with dreadfully smelly eye tech.} and then out to lunch and dress shopping for an annual dance she has, coming up. We had a grand and lovely afternoon, complete with kicking our feet up at the local fro-yo place and watching some bizarre TLC show about brides- that she apparently loves.

As if that was not all lucky enough, Friday evening I got to go out with a few girlfriends and despite the intense fog and super slick conditions- it was exactly what the past couple of weeks have needed. We saw a movie and then went for drinks and chatted until a time that Cinderella never could have stood for. Thanks to my pomegranate margaritas, and sheer exhaustion- i was asleep withing minutes of getting home.

Waking up to fresh waffles, from my dear husband the breakfast king, was wonderful- but forging through the even peanut butter thick fog to get a spa pedicure and have my grey touched up was EVEN better. Dating myself was a little fantastic and certainly something that doesn’t happen with enough frequency.

As if all of that wasn’t enough to make a girl feel absolutely head over heels about the weekend- my husband whisked me away on a lovely little date complete with a movie, {Zero Dark Thirty} incredible Thai food, hours of brilliant conversation and dreaming following by drinks and cheesecake. The latter part of the evening was an after thought inspired by his craving, and something we never do. We make it a point to go to the Cheesecake Factory around my birthday, every year, when patio seating opens. They have a salad I love, but for the most part their cheesecake is fairly overrated and over priced. That being said- it was a date so whatever… I also never go out for drinks twice in a row, (or twice in a week for that matter) but again- date, blah blah blah. Imagine my complete and utter shock though when our ticket revealed that  my drink was $9 and my husbands (which was much smaller than mine) was $11. Do what? Our drinks, (not to mention the slice of cheesecake) cost more than our dinner.

Let me repeat- MORE THAN OUR DINNER.

Walking out, in the freezing rain- hand in hand, he said:

I’m really full.

I said:

We went over budget.

He said:

My stomach feels it.

I said:

Your wallet too.

He laughed and chimed in:

It was really nice though.

To which I sighed and said:

You are right. It was a lovely farewell to a date night option that we’ll never do again. Goodbye Cheesecake Factory.

To which he signed and said:

Amen.

Sunday’s dates were reserved for Jesus, followed by popcorn and Downton Abbey.

Perfect end to a perfect weekend. Complete perfection, actually.  I’ll take it!