Romance Was Oozed

When you've been married nearly 20 years, and really weren't the romantic types to begin with, Valentine's Day is just another day on the calendar. You kinda sorta feel obligated to do something in honor of the occasion, but not make it a big event by any stretch.

Sam's work vehicle refused to start for his Sunday morning shift, so he spent Monday diagnosing the problem and getting parts. Tuesday after work he tinkered and pottered trying to get parts installed. The good news is that it wasn't the $200 part that we thought it was. The bad news is that we're not sure what the problem is. And it's not fixed yet. Nor may it ever be fixed. (May the Suzuki rest in pieces.)

On Tuesday, I ran Josh to the school for basketball practice at 5:30. Parents were to be there at the 7:30 pickup to go over the season's rules. Apparently those who play basketball cannot have romantic lives. Good thing I didn't. Since Becky was making dinner (she rocks), I decided that I felt alive enough for the first time in a month to actually exercise. (Welcome back, me. You were missed.)

As I was finishing up my workout, Sam walked in the door. Because it was Valentine's Day, he felt like we should go out to eat to celebrate the occasion. Plus he needed to go back into town for more parts, so why not take advantage of the trip. We cleaned up, went to the school to pick up Josh and attend the parent orientation meeting, took Josh home, and headed to town. At nearly 8PM, my new puppy-feeding bedtime was being infringed upon. I was in grave danger of falling asleep sitting upright.

We had an hour before the auto parts store closed, and an hour before the restaurant of our choice closed. The auto parts trumped, and it took 20 minutes out of the hour. Because we're the most romantic type ever, our restaurant of choice was Chinese. But in my defense, it has a hibachi grill and that makes for some of the best and healthiest options in town. I kid you not. Nothing like grilled chicken, shrimp, pineapple, green peppers, onions, and mushrooms with just a hint of garlic and soy sauce. My mouth is watering just thinking of it. Mostly because we didn't get any.

After being seated, we realized that not only were we the only two people in the entire restaurant (they closed in 20 minutes) but that the grill was closed for the night. But how could we go elsewhere at this point? That would be rude. So for Valentine's Day, we ate all the sticky, gooey, messy Chinese left over on the buffet that sat for a good hour and was rather on the "should have been tossed a while ago" side, while listening to the cheesiest of romance songs left over from the 70's streaming through the restaurant's speakers.

Nobody does romance quite like we do.