I try not to plan, well anything, and certainly not fun, kid free evenings for anniversary celebrations.
So I was a bit surprised that by 10am Saturday, Owen is on his way to his cousins' house, for the whole night, and Bea on her way to her Grandma's house, for the whole night.
Al has the task of delivering the children while I stay at home reading a book and taking a leisurely shower in which quality time with razor is spent.
I'd not eaten much throughout the day in anticipation of much celebratory gluttony, which starts with dinner at 5pm at nice Italian place. Chicken wrapped in prosciutto wrapped in mozzarella *flashback drool*.
Glasses raise to 13 years together, 8 as married people. Stroll down 13 years of lanes, wonder how we manage to put up with each other, wonder how the kids are faring on their first night away from home.
That's right. This was our first night in FIVE years with no kids. *clink*
Next venue is waterfront restaurant for dessert and more drinks.
A pair of sisters joins us on the Adirondack chairs. Chatty sisters. The oldest and youngest of 9 children, ages 52 and 70. 52 treats us to her long sad story of failed marriage, childlessness, joblessness, medical troubles and general misery. 70 studies sea gulls and rolls eyes.
Saved by a text message from friend; would we like to meet up at bar around the corner?
Dive bar. With cousin of former best friend sitting at bar when we walk in. Little reminiscing; I'd gotten my first tattoo at her house 18 years ago. She doesn't see her cousin at all. Clink to a kid free evening.
Friends arrive. Newlyweds. She is Bohemian Barbie and he is Will Farrel. Seriously. The resemblance is uncanny. He gets mistaken for him. And he is every bit as silly as the real thing.
Easy conversation as bar fills up and glasses are drained and replenished. Barbie gets text; her friend Sarah is on her way. Barbie assures me I'll love her. Whatever.
Sarah appears. Our jaws drop. Pointing at each other. We went to elementary school together. Little reminiscing. Sarah disappears.
Conversation gets louder as bar is now at capacity and music has started. I drunkenly revert to signing; great tool for the bar scene.
Actually get dragged into dancing by Barbie who has reached 'I love you!' level of wasted. I'm equally wasted.
Watch some girls making out. Am not drunk enough to make out with Barbie, though our husbands are watching with hopeful expressions.
Time to leave. Hugging and promising to do it again real soon.
Very much wanting to do it again.
Even though I passed out as soon as we got home. Which may seem like a waste of a kid free house.
They were still gone when we woke up.
*Actual anniversary is the 28th. As promised, blow job story will appear on that day.