Dating while parenting

So the Mr. and I had a date the other night. Dating while parenting is like driving while on a cell phone. You think it should be easy enough, talking and driving, but you don't realize that the entire time you are seriously impaired. Almost so much so, that you shouldn't even be trying to do both things. But you do.

It was one of those nights when it seemed like a herculean effort to get away. Little Guy is hitting the fantastic two year old thing where he likes to scream noooo in your face every five seconds and Girlie had spent the previous hour crying over spelling practice, which is usually a breeze, but Oh Lordy, the horror of spelling celebrate without an S and fudge with a D. I decided to make pancakes for the kids to eat so the sitter wouldn't have any trouble and ended up pouring almost half of the bag of blueberries into the batter by accident after which they would barely stick together. And I was out of batter and down to the last drop of milk, one egg, no bread in the house, no time for a shower... that kind of night.

But we managed to get away. Really, we peeled out the driveway, and then finally it was just the two of us alone. We ate spicy Indian food and laughed and talked and drank a few beers, and I'm thinking boy do I like this guy.

And I sure hope he asks me out again.