Remember when you could go out to a club until 1 or 2 a.m. or later (!), go home and power nap for a few hours and still get to work on time and relatively lucid? Last week J. and I realized those days are long past for us. We are officially getting old. Okay, older. Okay, more mature.
One day last week, J. proposed something new: leaving Ava with my folks for the evening and really making a grown folks night of it by going to dinner then to see his buddy's band. OMG! I thought. We're going on an actual date! It was just like the old days with all the same questions: What should I wear? What would we eat? Would it be as fun as I hoped? Questions, questions!
After work I rushed to my folks' to visit with Ava for a bit, then zipped home to get showered and all dressed up (or down rather) to go rock out. Not only were we going to dinner, we were going someplace new! J. has a thing about not trying new places when he's hungry. Something about wanting something tried and true and blah, blah, blah. So we end up having conversations like this.
N: What do you feel like eating?
J: Anything. What do you want?
N: No, you decide. You're finicky-er.
J: No I'm not.
N: Fine. How about this Greek place I heard about?
J: (Wrinkles nose with distaste.)
N: Okay, how about either of those Vietnamese places I like on Jackson?
J: (Shrugs shoulders with indifference.)
N: Do you want to pick by area of the city or by cuisine?
J: I just want something good.
N: Like what?
J: I don't care. Wherever you want.
This is usually the point where my head explodes. This time however, he actually proposed a new Italian spot in Georgetown he'd read about in the local alternative newspaper. It was very good: excellent salad, tasty pizza and calzone, and the server was wonderfully attentive. J. said the wine was decent too. We caught up on our respective current events and activities and reminisced about the many dates and dinners over the past 15 years, from the great ones to the places that made our Hall of Shame list. It was wonderful to focus on each other instead of trying to simultaneously eat and get food morsels into the moving maw of a busy toddler.
Two soon-to-be-sleepy 30-something parents
We looked at each other about 9:45 p.m. and realized, um, we were both getting sleepy. With a high probability that the band wouldn't be taking the stage until at least 11:30pm, we knew we just wouldn't make it.
Plus, J. was feeling a bit sad that he hadn't seen Ava all day since we got up and out early. "I know I'm getting old when putting my baby to bed is more appealing than going out to see a band." Ditto buddy. :-) I long ago renounced any delusions of excessive youth or street cred to which I might have even remotely laid claim when I realized neither one generally pays very well or provides decent benefits.
So instead of rockin' out, we called it a night, picked up the kidlet and went home and went to bed. About 11:45 p.m., we got a text from J.'s cousin who went to the show: after sets by one group, then the house band, our buddy's band was about to take the stage! Our response? Zzzzzzz.
We'll definitely try to get out like that again, but we'll just need to do it on a weekend or take a power nap beforehand. I just have to accept that, despite celebrity role models, I personally can't work outside the home full time and be a great wife, mom, community volunteer and rocker babe, all at the same time. The rockin,' unless it involves a sleepy child, will have to wait for now.
