I figured we had about an hour’s drive to make our 7:15 reservations.
I had the car out of the garage and air-condition-cooling by 6 p.m.
Married twenty-five years, she knows how much I hate to be late.
I hold the car door and she lowers herself into her seat … at promptly 6:35 p.m.
Married twenty-five years, I know she’s never ready on time.
She: Wait a minute. Forgot my cheaters. Can’t read the menu without ‘em.
I get back out to hold the door a second time, and give the bridge of my nose a deep tissue massage until she returns and floats once again into her seat.
As we pull out of the driveway, we Google Map our drive to check traffic.
ETA: 7:37 p.m.
My chest tightens.
“Don’t drive like a maniac or you’ll make me sick.”
Ah, the sweet nothings of anniversary date night.Continue reading