date

sooo my mom decided to randomly visit yesterday AND offered to watch the kids so that butch and i could go out for a dinner date. it was kinda like winning the lottery yesterday when she called...a free babysitter on a saturday night? yes, please. butch and i never go out and do anything alone anymore...if we have a sitter, we tend to also involve 38 of our closest friends to hang out as well. not that we don't enjoy each other, cause we do...it's just that we don't get to hang out with people socially without our kids anymore, so we look forward to that as well. truth be told, we've never been a really romantic, take me out on a date kinda couple...we were friends first, so we skipped that whole "courting" stage. our story goes like this...we were friends, started banging in college, got married, had two kids and the rest is history. (fairytale we are not.) however, given the chance to go out  to dinner without an arsenal of highchairs, fingerfoods, sippy cups, and placemats that you can color on...is very inviting. we were pumped.

before going out, i thought i would help my mom bathe the kids and get them ready for bed. i was straightening my hair and putting on my makeup while ella was splashin' in the tub. (no shit sharks this time.) she kept asking me questions like, "what you doing?", "where you going?", "why you do your hair?" she knew something was up. i don't usually take my time getting ready. i usually shower, whip my hair into a ponytail, throw on some mascara and that is the end of my beauty regimen. she was staring at me with a stink eye the whole time. then, i went to get her out and she stood up, looked me dead in the eye and said, "I NOT GET OUT, BECAUSE YOU NOT WASH MY BUTT!" (correct, i forgot to wash your butt. my god.) after washing her butt, and putting two kids in jammies...i was ready to skip out the door. (run. i was ready to run out the door.) i was getting my stuff together, and realized i  couldn't find my drivers license. (butch gets super annoyed when i lose shit.) i said, "i can't find my ID." he sighed, rolled his eyes...and then walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bag of chips and started shoveling into his mouth (staring at me) while i was running around looking for it. (he was extra hungry, as per usual.)

after 15 minutes of searching, i never found it. sidebar: the only reason this was a big deal is because i'm 5 foot and look like i'm 12, so i get carded everywhere. i wanted to have a drink at dinner, obviously. butch was starting to get the hunger shakes, so we went without it and hoped for the best. we walked into the restaurant and i was like a nervous underager hoping i would get served. (i'm 30 for godsakes.) butch ordered drinks for both of us at the bar while we waited for a table, and the bartender was eyeballing me the whole time. i smiled to show him i was not, in fact, wearing braces. he smiled back, and did not card me. (phewww.) we had a super yummy mexican meal and our conversation consisted of our kids, work, and ways butch is going to seek revenge on friends of ours that poured gin in his beer bong in the poconos. (intelligent conversation indeed.) after dinner, i said, "is it wrong that i just want to go home and go to bed?" he said, "no...i want to do that too, i'm full as shit!" (rubbing his belly. classy.) however, we didn't want to "waste" our night doing what we always do, so we stopped at a bar on the way home. (and that's when the fun started.)

we went to a place that we frequent often, so i knew i wasn't going to get carded. however, we are usually there early for dinner with our kids, and not on a saturday night. we walked in and the place. was. PACKED. every person in there was WOUND up. it was $1 natty lite can night...with a crowd to match. i pushed my way to a high top and asked an odd looking pair if anyone was sitting in the two empty chairs at their table. they said no, so i sat down while butch got us some beers. i did a scan of the place and realized that besides one other couple, we were the oldest ones in there. also, although i felt pretty hot in my sweater dress prior to walking in there...i realized that in this setting, i was dressed like a grandma. (tits and ass a plenty at this place.) moreover, butch was in a collared shirt and sweater and stated in that moment that he felt like he was dressed for church.

we sat there taking it all in, and the guy next to me turned and said, "we are having an argument over who is older...her, or me. can you help us out?" (he was dead serious.) he pointed to the girl across the table, who was sitting next to butch. i said, "well there is an easy way to figure this out...when are your birthdays?" (jesus christ. effing idiot.) she said (really excited)," mine is december 31st, 1990!!!" (omg.) he said, "mine is april 16th, 1990!!" (holy crap.) i said, "ok, well do the math (or do you need me to do it, young feller?)... and my birthday is april 16th, too. he then grabbed me, and hugged me violently. "YOU MEAN WE HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY!?" i said, 'yes...our mothers both gave birth on the same day.' he then said matter of factly, "i went to Brown." i wasn't sure where he was going with this, but i think he wanted me to be impressed with his place of higher education. (i wasn't.) quite honestly, i don't give a shit if you went to harvard, yale, or didn't go to college at all...if you are an idiot, you are an idiot. (period.) this guy was an idiot. i said, "good for you!" (i didn't know what else to say?) shortly after this assinine birthday conversation, everyone started yelling and plastering themselves up against the windows. someone yelled, "FIIIIGHHHHHTTT!!!!" (holy shit.)

so there butch and i sat, while everyone was pushing to get a good view of the carnage. a perky blondie hopped by the table and said, "so this is what happened...there is a girl in a yellow skirt, who was just having SEX with a guy in a CAR out there. BUT it wasn't her car, it was her BOYFRIEND'S car....and the guy she was SCREWING, wasn't her boyfriend. he was in here." (please god let my birthday buddy be the boyfriend.) shortly after gossip girl filling us in, a chick that was completely hammered, wearing a yellow skirt stumbled back into the bar...and people were screaming expletives at her. i'm pretty sure her problem solving skills were not in order, because coming back INTO the bar after humping some dude that is not your boyfriend, in your boyfriends car...while your boyfriend watches from the bar was not a good choice. apparently the boyfriend (who, sadly, was not my birthday buddy.) went out to pound the shit out of the dude that was doing his girlfriend...and that's when the cops showed up. three cop cars peeled into the parking lot, lights blazing, and butch and i were still sitting in the same place sipping the same beer. he said, "what the hell is going on here? this is crazy." i agreed...but i'm not surprised that this would happen on our date night. (such is our life. crazy.) shortly after this, the bar cleared out, and we had another beer and decided it was best we just went home. (before anything else ridiculous happened.)

and so, our date night turned out to be a cross between a taping of COPS and jerry springer. (naturally.) we had a good time but realized that however crazy our children make our lives, it's not nearly as crazy as $1 natty lite night at the bar. although it was fun to watch the show unfold...we would've been happier on the couch with coors lights and an episode of dateline. i couldn't help but wonder what a colossal mess yellow skirt girl woke up to this morning...certainly it was a bigger mess than the crappy diapers woke up to. moreover, i'll take shitty diapers over those shenanigans any day of the week.