For my 91st act of love, I treated you to a romantic dinner in our home. I planned on making the dinner myself, but work got in the way so we shared the responsibility. We made crockpot pork loin, potatoes, and vegetables.
Last time we had a romantic dinner, our kids ate with us. This time, I did what I could to make sure it was just the two of us (there’s only so much you can control with a baby in the house). At 8, we put the kids to bed and (wonder of wonders!) the baby fell asleep too. I then set the table up with your flowers for the week (which I’ve been consistently buying, but not blogging about), a candle, and our dinner. I also set the computer to play the 10 songs I bought you from your iTunes wish list (at that point, you didn’t know I bought them).
We started eating dinner and the music started playing. “Do you recognize this song?” I asked. “Yeah, I know this song.” We continued eating. When the next song came on I asked, “How about this one?” “Yeah, this song’s good.” By the third song, you began to wonder why I was asking: “Did you buy some songs from my wish list or something?” “Yes, I did!” “You went through all that trouble for little ol’ me?!” you replied in a slightly Southern accent. (I had to retrieve the wish list from an external hard drive, so it wasn’t simply a click of the button.) “Yeah, I did it because I like ya.” You started tearing up and thanked me. Who knew you’d like that act so much?
After dinner, I brought out a piece of cheescake for us to share. I started to feed you the dessert myself, being mockingly romantic. But I pushed the fork too far in your mouth and made you gag. After laughing that one off, I let you feed yourself. When we finished our dessert, we enjoyed each other’s company on the couch for a few minutes. Then, our baby woke up. So the three of us enjoyed each other’s company.
Later in the evening, our four-year-old daughter called me up to her room. She asked, “So, did I hear something about a romantic dinner?” “Yes.” Then she asked in an accusatory tone, “Are you going to a restaurant without me?!” “Ha ha! No, we already ate our romantic dinner . . . What’s a romantic dinner, sweetie?” “I don’t know,” she said as she shrugged her shoulders and laid back down to go to sleep.
With a great ambience, 3 sleeping kids, and a nice dinner and dessert, I’d say romantic dinner #2 was a success.