We put the kids to bed, picked up the brother-in-law/ babysitter, and headed out.
We chatted on the way to the restaurant, were immediately seated (it was almost empty on a Friday night at 8...), and sat down with simultaneous deep breaths and happy sighs.
It had been a rough first week or two of being home with 2 kiddos while Ben started working. We needed a night alone.
When the waitress brought our appetizer, I appreciated not having to share my dip in a whole new way. No one was asking me to cut food or blow on something. No one was spilling or shouting.
We both smiled & laughed about the new season we're in - having a full blown toddler & a newborn.
And then enjoyed some normal adult conversation.
Until I found a bug in my salad.
I shoved my salad towards Ben, totally grossed out.
We waited for our waitress to come back and check on things, but she was chatting with her other server friends and eating. hashtag.quality.service
Finally, Ben decided to bring the salad to her.
"Ohh my gooosshhh," I heard her squeal.
He reassured her it was fine and she took it away.
She didn't offer a replacement. And I didn't want one.
The manager came over and apologized. Kind of. Actually, it was more defensive.
"Oh I'm sorry. I just hope you don't think our restaurant is gross or something. I mean, that never happens here."
We were polite and did not make a scene. It wasn't really her fault.
We finished dinner & ordered dessert. (Go big or go home!)
It came out lukewarm and all the ice cream was melted.
We ate dessert and figured, oh well, at least it works out that "the manager will take care of you... we're going to cover your meal."
What this actually meant was just the cost of my main dinner dish.
So, we paid money for this dinner.
You know what though? It didn't really matter. We soaked up the time together, enjoyed the conversation, laughed a lot, and now it's a funny story. Plus, a few hours out away from kiddos... Bam! And that is why it was the best worst date ever.
|"selfie masters" according to my bro-in-law.|