A perfect date...oh my word.
Sounds like a lot of pressure, honestly.
I've come to realize that perfection is an impossible standard for this mere mortal. I actually attempted a romantic getaway with Wolf, the hubby last month.
It didn't go well. If you want all the gory (albeit funny) details, including stockings becoming slouch socks, you can read it here.
So, I don't aim for perfect. Just *getting* a date has become enough these days. With 5 Minions still at home, getting out of the house is an event. Usually, a grocery shopping event. But, every now and then, we go out...just for fun.
And it's glorious.
I honestly don't care where we go, or what we do. Ok, that's a lie, I need my Tim Horton's coffee at some point. Yes, I'm a cheap date, but that's a good thing, otherwise Wolf couldn't afford me. Heck, *I* could't afford me.
A date where we get to eat a meal in peace, without anyone crying, refusing to eat, shoving a plate on the floor, or flinging food is special enough. Even fast food can be romantic, when you're not having to admonish anyone for finger painting with the ketchup. Sure, Wolf pouted a bit over that one, but dang it, we're grown ups, and you have to have a kid along to get away with that sort of behaviour. Otherwise, you're just that creepy guy in the booth. And nobody wants to be that guy, right? Right.
So, my 'perfect for me' date is just time out with the husband, no kids to tend to, and a hot coffee.
Unless, of course, a winning lottery ticket can be included.
Then I could get really creative.
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