Tonight we took advantage of Parents Night Out at Big Dog's after school program. This is one evening a month they stay open until 10pm and for $20 per kid you can leave them and go do stuff you used to do before you became a responsible adult with kids to worry about. Or if you're like us, you can go out to dinner and talk about the kids until it is time to pick them up. It's awesome.
Anyhow, between Big Dog's and Little Dog's schools we get two a month, or if it's December (which it is) we could even claim a third because Little Dog's school loves us so much and is hosting an extra one next week. So we went out to dinner tonight and we even managed to talk about things other than the boys.
I think it is important for parents to remember they are adults and their lives extend beyond the child related things that can fill our days. It is critical that you continue to share your feelings and thoughts about important and personal topics to keep your relationship strong and healthy. For example, Mr. Dog said he appreciated how many of the men in the restaurant were losing their hair. He felt like he fit in. He then confided in me that he was having a hard time coming to terms with the loss of his tresses. To this I replied that I understood. I am having a hard time coming to terms with the loss of my pert pre-baby boobs. I told him that my "National Geographic" breasts depress me and I'd like my old ones back. He made some sympathetic noises as you do when someone says such a thing, then he told me that when he reaches a certain point in his hair loss, though he did not elaborate on what point it will be, he is going to shave his head.
I looked at the two men at the bar sporting bald heads and full beards and worried a bit. "Are you going to grow a beard?" I asked, concern filling my voice.
"No," he said. I breathed an internal sigh of relief.
"Well," I told him, "I want a boob job."
"Why?" he asked.
"I want to make them HUGE," I said, holding my hands out in front of my chest to emphasize my ginormous imaginary breasts. "In fact I want to replace them with t-shirt cannons. It'll be awesome."
I then simulated shooting t-shirts out of my ginormous imaginary breast, first the right, then the left, into the crowded restaurant.
After this little demonstration, Mr. Dog agreed it was a tremendously well thought out plan and indicated he was on board with my decision.
"When I shave my head, you go ahead and get your boob job," he said. He's always encouraging me to strive to achieve my goals and dreams. I feel fortunate to have such a supportive spouse, not everyone is so lucky.
We then discussed how well suited "t-shirt cannons" was as a euphemism for ginormous breasts, even if they don't actually shoot t-shirts.
It was all very civilized and grown up. I don't believe we mentioned the children once in the course of this conversation. It's so nice to get out without the kids and enjoy some adult conversation from time to time. In fact, I'm certain my marriage is stronger for it.
Pasta ala Fridge
5 years ago