Date Day (aka Date Night #3)

Yesterday's "date" wasn't quite what I had in mind, but I guess I have to take it as I can get it. It started with Ed picking the girls up to take them to his company picnic at Coney Island. They left at 10:30 a.m. and that's when I turned to Ray and said, "Well?" You see, I told him that we would have the day to ourselves several days ago and asked that he plan for us to do something together. I envisioned us going downtown to eat lunch and taking a quiet little stroll along Sawyer Point. Or, maybe even us going to a museum, or perhaps a quaint little picnic. He says,

"We can go swimming at my mom and dad's."

Insert the sound of chirping crickets here (as my friend Holly would say).

"Ummm, you want to spend our day alone together with your family?"

"It's going to be hot."

"That's all you came up with?"

Insert the sound of chirping crickets here.

"You know what," I'm on the verge of screaming and crying and pouting all at the same time, "this is ridiculous. No, I don't want to spend my day without the kids at your mom and dad's house where I have to sit and listen to your dad and Mike spout off about Obama, the government, and anything else they want to talk about. I'm going to Hobby Lobby. Think of something different."

I left. When I got back I heard, "Do you want to get some mulch?"

Ummm...we can't insert the chirping crickets here because I HAVE SQUASHED THEM!"

"Mulch????!!!!" I'm no longer on the verge of screaming and crying and pouting; this is what I am doing. "What for? We have NO flowers and it's HOT outside. You never work for me; you never do anything to woo me. You just expect me to be here. You want to go to your mom's house where we will have zero conversation??? Fine. Let's go. I don't care any more."

"I'm tired of you always yelling at me." Surprisingly, he spoke this rather timidly.

I wheeled around, "Really? Did you just try to make this about you? You comment on the yelling, but you completely missed the message. All you can focus on is you. Yes I'm yelling. This isn't about you getting yelled at. This is about you undervaluing, underappreciating me every.single.day." At this point, I felt like I scored a point for myself, so before he could respond, I stormed off, slammed the bathroom door, and commenced crying.

Ten minutes later, he comes back in the house. By now, I'm sitting in my office trying to figure out how to make something with some cheap supplies I bought at Hobby Lobby, and he says, "I think I feel like going on a bike ride. You coming?"

"No you stupid boy," I'm saying to myself. "No, I do not want to ride my bike around the neighborhood with you. That's the last thing I want to do." Of course, what I really say is, "Whatever."

I walk outside to find him loading the bikes into the truck. We actually went to the bike trail. Not being one who gives up easily, I did pout and answer in only one word phrases all the way there and for a few minutes at the start, but I couldn't help but give in. He promised it would be a leisurely ride not a I'm-a-man-who-has-to-prove-my-manhood-by-crushing-my-wife-with-speed-and-agility-kind of ride, and that's what it was. We had quiet time and space and surprisingly lots of shade. We talked--of course, not about anything serious-serious--but we were speaking to each other, which we don't often do. I loved the feel of the warm air wrapping around my body, and the further we biked, the more I let go of my anger.


(Yes, I rode the bike with my camera strapped to my hand)





We biked a total of 2 hours. We had to stop after 30 minutes for a quick break because my behind, which isn't used to sitting on a bike seat, was quite sore.

So I tried to take some pictures of us.

Damn shade...

Our next break came when we got to Loveland where I tried to get some more pictures of us (I should have worn a hat to hide my wind-blown-bike-riding-hair)

And where I got a tasty, refreshing Peach Smoothie to take with me on the ride back.

Trying to keep my mind off my aching behind, I took some pictures of the scenery.

And yes, these were taking as we were moving. I almost wrecked into a couple coming the other way because I was completely oblivious to my surroundings. At 39, it's not as easy to ride with no hands (or even just one hand) as it was when I was 12.

I tried to get some pictures of myself. This is what I got at first...

And then finally I made it to my face...

I do not do the wind-blown look very well!

We ended the "date" with a run through Frisch's drive thru and a spot in front of the TV to watch the US in the World Cup.

It didn't start off well, but it ended well (for us at least. Not so much for the men's soccer team). It was actually an enjoyable day with Ray and turned out much better than our other two attempts.