Date night started early yesterday at 3:00. My mom took on the gracious task of caring for our active, slightly-sick-with-a-cold toddler while we delivered a meal to friends with a newborn and went out to an early dinner.
How early? 5:00. Yeah, we're that couple now. The one who does everything ridiculously early because we loathe the idea of staying up late because the kiddo will never ever sleep in.
I got a table at a hot new restaurant (in a local rag's top 25 list) in a hot neighborhood that focuses on pork and does all of its production in-house. I'm talking sausage, brisket, belly - the works - with a dedication to local and sustainable food. In other words, trendy but a trend I love because it usually results in beautiful food.
We managed to take two hours over dinner - a rare treat on many levels. Near the end, I couldn't help noticing the swarm of yuppies surrounding us (partly loathing the Coach bag at one table, partly admiring the glossy hair and obviously expensive shoes at another). I thought it was pretty funny, all of the showmanship, but I caught myself being judgmental and stopped. Who am I to judge someone because they are young and have more disposable income than me? Why should I care if a guy looks like he spent three times as much on his casual outfit than he'll spend on an expensive dinner for two? I remembered that money doesn't equal happiness. So there's that.
Then there was the young man's hair two tables from us. I'm talking Brillo wig for a beard paired with a hairdo somewhere between Flock of Seagulls and that famous boxing announcer. It was ready to take off! I couldn't help giggling myself silly.
Having left the restaurant around 7:00, we wondered what to do with ourselves. Ice cream down the street? WAY too crowded (who wants to stand in line for an hour for a scoop?). Movie? Eh, too late to start that. We decided to have a beer at a local brewery, and drove over there to find they were about to close. We headed home just before 8:00 and called the evening a success (mostly a night is a success if we get home after our son has gone to bed). I mean, I just can't justify staying out just to prove that I can when I could be on my couch watching my nice TV in my favorite comfy clothes.