Today, my kids did not take their typical daily nap. We instead spent a greater part of the day down the street at their "Nana and Grampy's" house, swimming in their new pool. I considered forcing them to lay down in the early afternoon, but later decided not to hoping this would lead to an earlier bed time. Cue my devious smirk while doing "The running man" dance (MC Hammer Janet Jackson? Bobby Brown???). I survived the tantrums, the bickering, the whining and crying all day only for them to both fall out hours short of bedtime. Of. Course.
After finishing my famous spaghetti that consists of only noodles, ground beef and spaghetti sauce, I reluctantly go to wake the tiny ruffians. Just as I prepare with angst to wake my two year old, my wise husband suggests otherwise. "We could let them sleep a little longer and eat dinner alone," he says.
"Alone? Ah...yes. Alone."
My imagination runs wild with how awesome our unplanned home date will be.
In my mind, this meant a break from cheer leading every bite, getting up again and again for one reason or another, repeatedly shouting the regular parental phrases to toddlers at the dinner table. "It's not hot, no that's enough salt, keep your hands to yourself, just one more bite," and so on. It will be quiet. We will talk about our day. I will throw my head back in laughter, I will blush as my husband says how beautiful I am in my faded black Walmart sweats and stained t-shirt. He will tell me how wonderful my three ingredient spaghetti is even though we might've had it within the past ten days. We will put on music and dance across our 1980's sticky tile as I continue to drink my bottle of Viognier... My very last precious from Craveyon that somehow managed to escape my consumption. Suddenly after telling me that I complete him, Channing Tatum disappears and I hear the sound of reality chewing and processing the 80/20 ground beef, Prego sauce and $.99 angel hair pasta.
I listen to him talk about his day at work and then there is silence. I eat a plate full of food while downing more wine. We have nothing to talk about but wow is the nothingness nice. I down more wine. I can't remember the last time we sat and ate in peace. Dinner ends and we temporarily part ways. I come to my room to play on my phone and Tommy (my real life husband) plays tiger woods (his Channing Tatum) golf on play station.
Suddenly ... I hear an eruption of fussing and grab my bottle and hide!!! The kids' hair washing cup will suffice...