Date night hasn’t happened in a loooong time in the O’Hara household. Oh, the ToolMaster and I sneak time to be together on a regular basis. We’ll go to the hardware store without the kids, or to a coffee shop for a quick beverage, but it’s not the same as before children, when we’d sit moon-eyed over dessert for hours and speak of far-off plans. 

Partly that’s a result of laziness, partly circumstance. He works a lot of overtime, and it’s surprisingly hard to find something to do together at the last minute. Our old stand-by was dinner and a movie, but these days, finding a film we both appreciate can be a challenge.

The ToolMaster likes his movies gritty and dark, preferably with an army rushing here or there and a bittersweet finale. I can handle a lot of tension, but a Happily Ever After is mandatory for me on date night. On the few occasions we hit the demilitarized zone with a film we’d both enjoy, it’s inevitable the kids will want to come.

But tonight will be different.

Tonight we plan to make use of some very good hockey tickets we were gifted, after yet another occasion when the ToolMaster did his guru-thing at work. For whatever reason, we both feel the pull of the boys on the rink.

So this evening I will don my best jeans, if they fit. We will spend an hour to drive and park, purchase overpriced drinks and popcorn with enough salt to pickle a blue whale or three. We will breathe in the sweet perfume of competition and testosterone. We will risk a beer drenching.

We will NOT discuss how we’re sitting in a perfectly good stadium that the team owner wants to abandon as soon as he persuades the city to build a modern facility — the cost a mere $300 million in the year our taxes are set to rise 6% again, and when the nearest fitness facility for my neighborhood is a twenty-minute drive away. That would make us crazy. Despite what you’re heard, insanity is so not teh sexay.

At some point I anticipate we’ll lurch to our feet when our team gets close to a score. United by common experience, I expect we’ll clasp hands. And if I’m lucky — very lucky — when some talented jock is mashed against the plexiglass and held so his face forms an attractive, pink shmear, and when the fists and teeth are a-flyin’ while the overhead organ plays, we will look into one another’s eyes and mouth, “I love you.”

Over twenty-seven years together, folks, and yes, we still know how to kindle the sparks. 😉

So what’s the scoop with you? If you’re in a long-term relationship, do you make a regular practice of date night?  What did you do in your most recent one?

And pee ess, I did miss this place and you, even while I’ve been having fun and learning a ton!