When I heard that The Book of Mormon was coming to Minneapolis, there was no question L and I were going. I didn't care how much the tickets were (ridiculously expensive, FYI). I didn't care how late we were out (way, way, WAY past this woman in her thirties' bedtime, FYI). We were going. And that was final.
I bought the tickets back in September, when February seemed like a lifetime away. Aaron will surely be sleeping better at night by then, I thought. Life will surely be much easier. But as this past weekend was approaching, as much as I was looking forward to the show, I was starting to get worried. Our nights are... bu hao, as the Chinese would say. I still find my morning shower to be challenging. My hair is...
(My bad hair excuses)
But it was going to happen. Because it had been, and I'm really embarrassed to say this, over two years since L and I had gone on a proper date. Just the two of us. Dinner and a show. Like normal people.
Our babysitter came at 5. That's right-- we hired a babysitter, even though we have the world's best babysitter in L's Mom. We knew it was going to be a long night, and we already use her services so much that we couldn't ask her to do this long night for us. By 5:30 we were on our way.
In the car.
For a date, just us.
Have I mentioned we hadn't done that in OVER TWO YEARS?
First, it was dinner. Sushi, our favorite. It is such a treat to sit and eat without simultaneously feeding two other mouths. Bliss. However, if we'd had a dollar for every time one of us said, 'This feels so weird!' we could have paid for dinner.
Next, the show. It was just as good-- better-- than I'd expected. My face hurt by intermission, I was laughing so hard. Every song seemed to top the one before. I will never think of maggots without laughing again. Or Baptism, for that matter.
When we got home, our babysitter had washed our dishes. Both kids were asleep, which was nothing short of a miracle. She offered to come back anytime. We tipped her heavily, and when I asked L if it would be weird if I sent her a text telling her I loved her, he recommended that I hold back.
Maybe next time. Because there will most definitely be a next time.