A Note on My Date
When dating your eight and a half month pregnant wife, factors like availability to a restroom, length of wait to be seated, walking distance from the minivan, and overall table clearance take precedence over the normal criteria--taste of food, cost, service, etc. With these factors in mind and, oh, so many other factors I probably didn't know about, my wife and I took off to have a date.
We eventually chose the Fairway Grill, a St. George cafe that serves the standard cafe fare but with a decidedly elegant touch (read Prime Rib and Baked Salmon for a slick $16.95 each). It satisfied all of the pregnancy prerequisites so we thankfully enjoyed a tasty meal without total discomfort.
My wife did so well, in fact, that following our meal, she wanted desperately to go shopping. It was at this point that I realized that dating your pregnant wife is markedly different than dating anyone else. In full-blown nesting mode, she suggested Wal-Mart. We have no kids and the night to ourselves, and my wife wants to sachet through a Wal-Mart Supercenter. Her supposed goal was to show me the dishes she had been eyeing.
A bit of history. We own a set of bisque-colored stoneware dishes, but they are becoming less of a set as they get dropped and chipped. Before Christmas, my wife unboxed her holiday dishes, a set we like to call the "Cabin in the Snow" dishes. They are lovely. In a bold move by my wife, she decided after Christmas to never return to the bisque-colored stoneware and use the "Cabin in the Snow" dishes exclusively, so that she would be forced to buy another set.
Soooo.....
We are in the dish aisle at the Wal-Mart, and she is showing me all of the dish possibilities. I really don't care what dishes we get or don't get. In fact, the "Cabin in the Snow" dishes hold the pork chops and applesauce just fine. I then catch myself saying things I never thought I would ever utter. I said, "Honey, I don't like the green stoneware with the black bottom. It just doesn't seem like its us." I was so embarrassed. I was actually getting a designer groove on at the Wal-Mart. As if I could actually care, I was Martha Stewart in there. It was frightening.
Oh, I hope this kid gets here soon.
We eventually chose the Fairway Grill, a St. George cafe that serves the standard cafe fare but with a decidedly elegant touch (read Prime Rib and Baked Salmon for a slick $16.95 each). It satisfied all of the pregnancy prerequisites so we thankfully enjoyed a tasty meal without total discomfort.
My wife did so well, in fact, that following our meal, she wanted desperately to go shopping. It was at this point that I realized that dating your pregnant wife is markedly different than dating anyone else. In full-blown nesting mode, she suggested Wal-Mart. We have no kids and the night to ourselves, and my wife wants to sachet through a Wal-Mart Supercenter. Her supposed goal was to show me the dishes she had been eyeing.
A bit of history. We own a set of bisque-colored stoneware dishes, but they are becoming less of a set as they get dropped and chipped. Before Christmas, my wife unboxed her holiday dishes, a set we like to call the "Cabin in the Snow" dishes. They are lovely. In a bold move by my wife, she decided after Christmas to never return to the bisque-colored stoneware and use the "Cabin in the Snow" dishes exclusively, so that she would be forced to buy another set.
Soooo.....
We are in the dish aisle at the Wal-Mart, and she is showing me all of the dish possibilities. I really don't care what dishes we get or don't get. In fact, the "Cabin in the Snow" dishes hold the pork chops and applesauce just fine. I then catch myself saying things I never thought I would ever utter. I said, "Honey, I don't like the green stoneware with the black bottom. It just doesn't seem like its us." I was so embarrassed. I was actually getting a designer groove on at the Wal-Mart. As if I could actually care, I was Martha Stewart in there. It was frightening.
Oh, I hope this kid gets here soon.
posted by Cool Dad at Saturday, April 02, 2005
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home