I’m pretty indifferent about Valentine’s Day.

I know there are a lot of people out there who really hate it with a vengeance and are so repulsed at the very mention of the occasion that you can actually see the skin on their face start to shrivel and peel away.

I don’t have that alien nuclear radiation effect. I just don’t really care much about it.

I’m not a romantic. Not by any stretch of the imagination. We usually don’t get presents for each other on Valentine’s and prefer to do dinner out the night before or after to avoid the crowds.

Two years ago I found out on Valentine’s that I was pregnant, so we did the whole dinner reservations thing and I bought J a pooper-scooper for the litter box to initiate the beginning of his 9 months of having sole litter box duty on account of my pregnancy.

See. Not a romantic.

But last night my parents offered to take LB for the night so we could have an evening out. I didn’t know what to do with that. I mean, it was VALENTINE’S DAY, oh dreaded Day of 5-Hour Restaurant Waiting Times and No Available Reservations.

I hate waiting at restaurants. HATE IT. Remember that alien nuclear radiation effect? Yeah, I get that about waiting.

But it was an opportunity for a NIGHT OUT - as in, just the two of us - that rare and sacred opportunity that I must hold to my bosom and pet and cherish, lest it disappear forever. That precious glimpse of our past lives, free of responsibility and diapers.

While we wouldn’t give up our current situation for anything, there’s a mystical and almost naughty quality about The Night Out - something that defies understanding makes it entirely irresistible.

Ergo, even I, the Reigning Supreme Hater of Restaurant Wait Times could not turn down The Night Out.

So we joined the rest of the world and went out to eat on Valentine’s Day.

J called a restaurant and was told the current wait time was only 15 minutes (gasp!). But by the time we packed up LB, took her to my parents, and made it over there, the wait time had become 2 hours.

TWO HOURS??? This was not a fancy, exclusive restaurant. This was a typical steak & potatoes place. Not even The Night Out could overcome the agony of spending that much time waiting for a table.

I told J I was NOT sitting there for 2 hours and we went home and watched Bones and American Idol.

Two hours later, we went back.

Zero wait time. Night Out. Texas Twist Margarita.

BLISS.

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 15th, 2007 at 11:07 am and is filed under Daily, Enjoying, Marriage. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.