Thursday, February 5, 2015

The Date

On Saturday night the Double B and I finally went for our long awaited night out -- just the two of us. No big kids. No little kids. No baby. Just us! Just him and me. He and I. Both of us TOGEEEETHER! It. Was. Marvelous. I was so excited. It was like Christmas rolled into a bag of awesome and chocolate drizzled on top. This was it. The first time we'd gone out without Benson. First time just us in six months. It was so nice! Bev and Matt so graciously gave us movie tickets for Christmas and watched the kids for us. Friends are so nice to have. Especially friends that are your family, because your family lives a thousand miles away and their family actually lives an ocean away (they win).
So we decided to really go wild and go to Red Lobster (I know. We live dangerously). That's pretty fancy for us! So we went and had shrimp and crab and salmon -- all delicious. And most excellent conversation. The rain had turned to sleet had turned to snow, and I had my honey and a movie coming up I'd been dying to see (that doesn't happen very often, really). Pretty great.
As we left the restaurant and the light changed I realized I had a full on headache. Not just the obnoxious little thing I'd been ignoring, but the dangerous kind that was going to try to ruin my night. Well, TOO BAD, HEADACHE!!!!!!! I was baby free and living it up. We got to the theater and the Double B got me a truly gigantic Diet Coke with lime. I was trusting that baby to help me out, which I think it did -- I got through the whole war movie, praying it off, adjusting positions and finding a little relief, feeling a little nauseous but thinking I could fend that nausea off. I am good friends with headaches like many members of my family, but have been fortunate to not have more then a couple of handfuls of migraines, but I always know when one is coming because of the terrible nausea -- like a freight train that you know is coming to get you, it's just a matter of when. So anyhow, I'm holding strong. The hero comes home from war and finally finds some relief in helping others. Things are going to work out, except I already know they're not. Because suddenly, there it is -- the undeniable knowledge that I am going to lose my dinner. I stood right up, rushed down from the second to top row of the huge theater, debated if those trash cans by the door were too high, yes, they were, rushed through the huge lobby with watery eyes, mouth pinched shut, praying that I could just make it, rushed into a stall, and...

I felt so bad for the lady innocently using the restroom. That must have been unpleasant to listen to. But at least I knew she felt worse for me! I think I met my shoes. I think I am now clear of everything I have ever eaten before that point, ever. So sad. I want my $30 dinner back. Actually, I don't. I think sea food, my beloved sea food, may now be a thing from my past. So sad. I wouldn't mind the $6 Diet Coke back, though.

When I finally made it out, the Double B was waiting in the lobby. He told me how the movie ended and gave me lots of sympathy, and listened to the last of the purge and the moaning and groaning on the way home, driving through epic snow. He took me right home, then went and picked up the kids. What a champion. Not much of an ending to the epic date night, but such it is! Hilarious. I honestly think this story is hilarious. And noteworthy. And memorable.

Last night at Scouts the Bishop came up to me with a big smile and asked "How are you feeling?" I said "Great! How are you?" And he goes "Are you really? Because I hear you missed the last few minutes of a really good movie the other night." I started laughing and assured him that I missed them in a very epic manner. When I told the Double B what the Bishop said, he informed me he never told the Bishop! He just told his friend Dave. So a good Sister B barf story is worth the retelling, I guess. Made me laugh.

Last night was KJ's first Scout Court of Honor. He earned his Scout badge and headed up the color guard. It was really cute to see him up there, doing his darndest. He was really nervous he was going to drop the flag, but he did great -- got all of his lines in just right, too. I'm a Scout Mom now. Dude.

1 comment:

Ducksoup said...

Rie! You poor thing! So not fun! I'm sad to say Braden inherited the headache thing and sometimes barfs himself. So not fun! I loved your post, well I didn't like hearing you were sick but things were sounding pretty perfect until that migraine hit. Hope you're better. Your FC-inlaw hates seafood so you can join his club.