Paint the Town Green

Recently Nathan and I have found it a little difficult to remember that we're more than just roommates-raising-a-human together.

When our child is awake (and not at daycare), he's taking up the vast majority our time and attention.  After he's in bed, we're doing what needs to be ready for him to go back to daycare in the morning.  And once those chores are done?  Then we sort of do our own things, and since our primary 'own things' are solitary pursuits- Nathan playing video games, and me writing- we don't spend much time, you know, together.  Sure we might watch some tv, but that's not really quality togetherness (unless you're actually discussing the show, in which case it totally counts).

Tonight, however,  we had a capital-D Date, thanks to my mother informing us we were doing so, and furthermore forbidding us from discussing our offspring whilst on said date.

("It will be hard.  It will be extremely difficult.  But I know you can do it.")

So I got all fancified in my lemon cupcake dress and my true love shoes and even one of my vintage furs*, and I insisted Nathan put product in his hair, and then we hit the town!

Specifically we hit up The Thirsty Sasquatch, a "new" whiskey bar that I'd been meaning to get to since it was actually new, like a year ago.  The intention was to drink whiskey (or more likely bourbon, in my case) and chat like grown-ups, but when we got there we saw they had absinthe on the menu, and since we had just watched a thing about absinthe (causing Nathan to comment that he'd never actually had it) we decided to get fancy and order some.

Fancy, although not as fancy as some places.

So we slowly poured our water over our sugar (the carafes did not lend themselves to slowly dripping), and then enjoyed.  Not quite as much, however, as we enjoyed quietly mocking the other couple down the way from us, who were obviously on the First Date From Hell.  We're talking closed body language, no talking, staring at respective phones... until beer was chugged and they'd manage to talk for about five minutes, maybe even with a smile- but then they'd quickly sink back into staring boredly around them.  It was excruciating and fascinating all at once.

"Maybe they're just trying to get drunk enough to have sex?" I posited.  We agreed heartily that we're glad we never have to date again.  Because for real, if something happens to Nathan?  I'm probably just going to become a hermit.  With a baby.  A Bermit?  Anyway.

The bar started to fill up with loud and drunk people (who had gotten themselves that way on the Couve Cycle, which I really want to do one day) which made it hard to hear the live music we'd been enjoying, and impossible to hear one another, so we paid our tab and slipped out into the (still quite light) night for a stroll down Main Street.  We ended up stopping in to get ice cream as we walked and talked (chocolate for him, strawberry for me), and eventually made our way back to the car.

All in all it was a very good night, and we did manage to avoid discussing Neeps.  I'm feeling quite refreshed about our marriage at the moment, and all those little annoyances that were brewing towards my "roommate" (generally to do with cleaning things) have dissipated for the moment, subsumed by my love and affection for my husband, who is a fiercely intelligent and humorous man that I genuinely enjoy spending time with.

So.  Obviously we need to find an in-town babysitter, because I have plenty more pretty dresses that need wearing.





*("You look very Vancouver," said my mother, approvingly.  "Your outfit is fabulous!" said the older gay gentleman at the ice cream shop.  I'm counting it as a win.)