Date Night
Our lunch table.
Any day of the week.
Normal.
Wilder crying about something. Anything.
Conversation about Legos and puppies being tossed back and forth and requests for more milk and another sandwich and do I have to eat all of this banana?
Kevin trying to finish a story about his morning at work.
Me ignoring milk pooling up around my ankle from a leaky sippee cup or something.
Kevin just stops talking, takes a bite, then sighs and looks me earnestly in the eyes, “I love date nights.”
And I get up from my end of the table (why do we sit at the heads?) and I walk over and hug his neck.
“I do too.”
Because a date night looks nothing like dinner at our house.
Nothing at all.
Which is, of course, the exact point.
We dine using our forks.
Except when we go to Five Guys at my request because I haven’t been in over two years.
We look at one another when we speak.
Nothing drips on our toes and no peanut butter hand brushes across our favorite shirt.
We don’t have to fly through our words to avoid an interruption or an explosion or flying food. Or an interruption caused by an explosion which causes flying food. (Hey – have you ever eaten with us? This is no exaggeration.)
Date Night is peaceful.
Sometimes a beautiful phenomenon occurs between the phrases that we speak.
It’s called silence.
And I think I like it.
Oh, Date Night.
Here’s to you!
8 Comments
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alece
i'm with rhonda. best picture EVER!
Rhonda
Best. Picture. EVER.
shelley
Your post warmed my heart. I'm thankful for you . . . and Kevin . . . and your date nights. God is good.
beth
great pic! that needs to be in your house somewhere. framed.
Rachel
*sigh* I miss date night. A regular one, anyway. We maybe get one once a month. I need one! Now!
Amanda
so cute!
and so true!
Gretchen
DATE NIGHTS ARE THE BESTEST EVER! 🙂