The kids caught on to my MIA status after a few minutes and began to search upstairs for me. Of course I was here. Just one of the reasons I love this house. I can hear them easily on the next level even if I choose to unplug the monitor. So there I was behind closed doors striking interesting poses. Once or twice, I posed right along side a basket of clean laundry. There’s no shame in my game. If hot teenagers can send sexy cellphone pics, so can I. Ever do anything wild like that? We used to leave “notes” in each other’s work bags, long ago. Boy was that fun. I do crazy stuff on a regular basis. All for the sake of marriage.
I guess I’m still feeling the effects of last Saturday’s date night. Xmen was great, but most of all I just enjoyed his company. Our date was interesting because we lost our house keys during the thunderstorm that broke after dinner. Eric had run off in the pouring rain to get the car so I’d be dry. I had to accept his chilvary because I didn’t want to be a popsicle in the cinema. (I find it so sweet when he pours on that southern charm). So we didn’t know the keys were gone until we were about to watch Wolverine rip some stuff apart. That discovery made us exchange our tickets for a later show and then go on a hunt for the keys. It didn’t take long to find them and soon we were back at the theater patiently waiting for our show to start. When it finally got started, it was Hanna Montana, not Xmen. The whole cinema was in uproar. In retrospect this is very funny. But during the show, about 20 of the movie patrons (including us) stormed out looking for the first attendant we could find to string up. I mean they literally had the kid surrounded! The young manager fixed the problem quickly, after cracking a few jokes, of course. At the end of the show we both agreed, the movie was awesome.
The Sunday afternoon following our date, I went out for nearly six hours — alone. He took care of the kids without complaint. Anytime he watches the kids like that, I go straight into your-wish-is-my-command mode. And I’ll do anything for him. Just can’t help myself! That little taste of freedom reminds me that I’m not just a hardworking mother. Sort of like I feel on date night. I get to dress up, put on makeup and pretend we’re 19 again. I love it. Not much trumps being a mother. But being a woman can feel so very, very good. How do you express your womanhood?