Into the Date Night
Photo of the Vegas Roll thanks to the Baltimore Sun.
It was date night.
Chup and I took full advantage of his visiting parents and left Grandma and Grandpa in charge of our dependents. First, sushi at our favorite little spot. The place was crowded, we were lucky to get a table squished up against the back wall. It was such a tight space, our server tripped over my chair and landed on her knees. But before I could maneuver to help her up, she scurried to the back of the restaurant and out of the way. I couldn't tell if she was embarrassed or in pain. Probably both.
The sushi was fantastic.
The place was so well packed, Chup and I spent ample time people watching--not staring mind you, just brief glances around our atmosphere. To our right there was a couple who repeatedly fed noodles to one another with chopsticks. Props to their agility with Asian utensils, but that wasn't the most interesting thing about them, he looked less like a romantic partner and more like her father. It looked sorta like a Daddy Daughter Date or like the daddy bird feeding his baby bird the morning worms. Endearing.
A woman waiting for a table had the most glorious coat wrapped around her shoulders. We discussed, vintage or made-to-look vintage? How I love having a husband who will engage me in such important debates. I conclude with my opinion: made-to-look vintage.
The booth to our left held a couple with a newborn baby. From his well-shielded carseat the baby started screaming. The husband, a handsome blonde, who had been talking passionately about their kitchen remodel stopped mid tile-and-grout exploration, took the baby from his wife's side and out of the restaurant. When she was alone in the booth, the wife started to cry--a kind of sobbing the postpartum warriors of this world can understand. It took everything I had not to get up from my own table, slide into the seat next to hers and cry with her.
"Oh, I know how that is," I said to Chup feeling it in my chest. So I sent a little prayer over to her, and left her alone.
I wondered what the other patrons would say about us. I can't believe that lady tripped her server.
When dinner was over we discovered the rain outside was blowing in horizontal sheets. Being the chivalrous man that he is, Chup ran to the car so I wouldn't have to get my hair wet, or anything wet for that matter. By the time he returned to pick me up in front of the warm restaurant, the temperature had dropped and replaced the rain with furious snow.
We drove to downtown Provo with busy windshield wipers. There we met up with our friends at a late night lounge. Something about the storm and having well-placed babysitters (FREE TOO!) at home made us totally comfortable. We talked well into the early evening over fizzy drinks and piles of appetizers. It had been a long time since I looked one o'clock straight in the eyes and defied parental tiredness.
Beat that One O'clock! I'm not afraid of you!
(Oh but the next day . . .)
Earlier this week my family took our children so Chup and I could spend a Valentine's night at the Zermatt Resort up the canyon. That experience, coupled with Saturday night's marathon date made me say to Chup,
"Something is around the corner. Heavenly Father is giving us all this time to be alone together. Makes me suspicious,"
"And when it comes we'll be just fine," Chup assured me.
We shall see.