Free Desserts And Wedded Bliss

I'm sitting here at three in the morning, wide awake with a glass of water at my side and the cat dutifully perched upon my lap. The house is quiet with only the occasional moans and groans of a ice-maker kicking out the ice. Not a snore to be heard. I guess all the events of the day have kept me up. We had such a good anniversary that I hate to see the day end.

Our daughter started our day off with breakfast in bed. Yeah, she's good like that. Scrambled eggs, muffins, coffee, and milk. I am soooooo glad I took the time to show her a thing or two in the kitchen (and to my grandma, who was never afraid to stand a three-year old on a stool in her own kitchen or put a quilting needle in her hand... but that's a story for another day). We went to church and as my husband and I sat there holding hands, I thought about many things.

The amazing healing process our girl went through years ago.
My husband's family and the drama they bring to our lives.
The lady in front of me who wouldn't stop flipping her hair.

(And I know I get distracted easily, but seriously... how many times can a girl flip her hair over the back of her chair? Apparently, a lot).

Afterward, we went to the mall to appease the masses (that would be the kids), shared a gyro (which the husband first fell in love with in Germany), and aimlessly wandered in and out of stores. We were shocked at the adult themes we found in one novelty store-

and a side note here, take the time to know exactly what is in your local mall. I hate the mall. I'm not a fan of mall shopping. Therefore I always take a seat at Barnes & Noble and read while my kids roam freely. Not a good idea. At least not at first. This particular "novelty"  store had adult toys, games, the whole XXX theme without the magazines and movies, all on full display. No i.d. required to walk in (nothing posted about purchasing stuff).  The place was full of kids and by kids, I mean teens that looked as young as our fourteen-year old. When we talked to the kids about later, they were all too aware of the place (except our girl, thank the Lord, but then again, she is always with me reading) and immediately looked at me shocked, "Mom, you should NOT have went in there."

What's my point? The kids knew; I didn't. Know your mall. And know how to write a respectful and yet objectionable letter to the mall owners, elected county officials, and all the local moms in your area.

-but back to my day. After the mall and the husband's discussion with the kids regarding the above-mentioned store, we went home and basically did nothing until the time came for us to go out to dinner. Alone. The best meal ever. We had the best server, the best food, the best free dessert (I'm thinking we spent so much on dinner the guy must of thought there might be something to these two random people having such a meal on a Sunday night... he wished us a Happy Anniversary with a huge piece of some chocolate brownie-mousse concoction that is currently waiting in my fridge). We sat there and ate and talked while holding hands and I thought about many things.

The heart attack my husband had our sixth year.
The Great Move of the fourteenth year.
The person sitting at the end of the table next to us wearing a graduation cap.

(Yes, again with the distractions, but watching her struggle to keep her tassel out of her pasta was a tad bit entertaining).

Then we came home to a mess. Dirty dishes piled up. Dishwasher not unloaded. I got frustrated and voiced that frustration loudly and sarcastically. The husband pulled me aside and whispered, "Eighteen years." Yep. He has a way of diffusing a situation.

So now I sit here with the clock pushing the four o'clock hour. The kitchen was cleaned long ago. The cat abandoned me to chase his tail around the living room floor.  One kid has got up and looked at me strangely, "Mom, do you KNOW what time it is?"

Why yes, oh child of mine, I know exactly what time it is. I just hate for the day to end.