As part of my birthday gift, J and I went out to dinner. Alone. As in, without the kids. I know this doesn’t sound like a big deal, but trust me. This never happens. There has been at least one child continually attached to my hip for the past 5 years. And because I was taking advantage of this interval possibly a little too much, I overstuffed myself into a plump round mass. Although I believe it was the dessert that finally did me in. It was a novel concept; the fact that I could actually EAT MY FOOD.
I figured we could take this time for conversation. We could talk at length about our days without interruption. On a topic that didn’t have to be child related or what we need from the grocery store. We could look longingly at each other, gazing into one another’s eyes. Whisper sweet nothings across the table.
Instead, we played an aggressive IPhone game of who can SHOOT and KILL the other first.