I’m confused about what it means to go on a date lately. The kids are old enough that we leave them at home whenever we want to go to the grocery store or the mall or to browse statuary. We used to have to arrange childcare for this kind of thing, which made it easy to identify it as A Date. (Yes, it’s true that many of our dates involve the grocery store, the mall, and statuary lots.) It begs the age-old question: If you don’t hire a babysitter, does it count as a date?
Also, before you tell me that going to the grocery store definitely does not count as a date, what if I wear lipstick and heels and we go to the nice grocery store? What if we engage in lively banter in the bread aisle? What if he produces a dozen roses from behind his back at the checkout counter? What if we bust into the box of Drumsticks and share them together on the sidewalk outside the grocery store?
The lines are blurry, my friend.
All this is to say that we decided it was time to go on a Definitely a Date date last weekend, and fortunately there was a movie that wasn’t too scary, dark, action-y, suspenseful, post-apocalyptic, or graphic, and that left us with The Lost City, starring Sandra Bullock and Channing Tatum. One of the reviews said that the movie was acceptable—the equivalent of a microwave burrito—and that was good enough for us.
Of course, I had to find something to wear. Most of my options were too cold, too dowdy or too Chewbacca-y, so I settled on the same sweater I wore when we took the boys to see The Mitchells vs. the Machines, deciding that it wasn’t so much what I wore as the fact that I put thought into what I was going to wear.
We pulled into the parking garage and Kevin effortlessly squeezed the minivan into a tight parking spot. “You know, so you’ll see what a good dad I’ll be someday.” I nodded. “There’s only one problem. I don’t want kids.”
I also told him he should have cleaned the giant smear of bird poop off the passenger’s side window before our date. He said he thought I wouldn’t notice amidst all the scratches his wife put on the car.
Despite the date getting off to a rocky start, the movie was actually pretty good. Way better than a microwave burrito. It was more like an enchilada platter, or a baja fish taco with pomegranate jewels. (Seriously, who comes up with this stuff?!)
The movie was especially relatable because Sandra Bullock plays a frustrated writer. My favorite scene came at the beginning, where the hero and heroine are lying on a floor surrounded by snakes, Indiana-Jones style, when the heroine says something like, wait a minute, why are there so many snakes? Whose snakes even are these? What do they eat? Who feeds them? This doesn’t make any sense! And we realize it’s the author’s voice poking holes in her plot as she’s trying to write it.
This is the exact reason I glower when Kevin asks, “So, how did writing go today?”
Anyway, the movie was cute and funny and Sandra Bullock absolutely rocks a pink sequin jumpsuit (that’s what I should have worn!). We spent the ride home looking up the actors’ heights, weights, and ages and saying how awful it must be for people to be able to look up your height, weight, and age any old time. Kevin guessed everyone’s age within a year except Sandra Bullock. I’m not going to tell you her real age. You can decide to rise above the muck and not know, or join me in the mud pit and look it up. At any rate, she looks uh-MAZE-ing.
When we got home we took off our shoes, hung up our jackets, and stood awkwardly in the kitchen. I broke the silence by whispering that I was going to slip into something more comfortable. So I did and then Kevin went to bed and I watched zoo documentaries in my polka dotted PJ’s until late.
So overall, how did the date go?
Well, we could still use a trip to the grocery store, but I think I’ll stick around to see where this thing goes.
WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Cornbread taco bake!!!!!
Mint chocolate chip cookies