Tonight my husband and I had a date. I wore my special red dress. (The one the kids and he gave up a PS2 to buy for me. They spent 10 hours in the mall with me looking for it. They bought me shoes, a purse, and hose to go with it.) We went to an expensive restaurant with absolutely incredible food. And we ate what we wanted, regardless of the diet.
While I was getting ready tonight, I thought, Hmm. It’s the last weekend in July. We went on our first date the last weekend in July.
I looked it up. July 30th was our first date. So this is the 16th anniversary of our first date. We had another one.
On our first date we went to Rainbow Lodge, with both my sisters and their SO’s. Tonight we went to Churrasco’s alone.
On our first date I wore a green velvet and taffeta dress and garter hose. Tonight I wore a red dress and no hose.
On our first date we drove in my Camaro. (White.) Tonight we rode in his car. (Red.)
On our first date he asked about the most embarrassing thing my family could tell him about me. Tonight he knows them all.
On our first date we went to Steak and Ale and shared a dessert and talked about missions in Japan. Tonight we went to Barnes and Noble and I read decorating books while he looked up a novel. The Steak and Ale we went to then is only about two blocks from the B&N, but we’re both on a diet now. Even a shared French Silk pie slice is too much.
On our first date I was nervous. Tonight I wasn’t.
I’m glad we’ve been together 16 years. Happy anniversary, darling.