Bossy Toddlers Not Allowed: Or, Arby’s is Not Burger King

It’s been a loooong time since Dutch and I went on a date. Like a real date. With dinner AND a movie, and a stop for some groceries on the way home.

We are super romantic, see.

A real date is not running to get sandwiches at 9:00 pm while the little boys are asleep and the biggest boy is in charge.

A real date involves the cinema.

It is not sneaking away when people are sleeping and you want to be sleeping yourself. It is decidedly before bedtime.

This is the good news: after a lengthy dating dry spell, the hubs and I are back.

I wanted to link arms with my husband and skip, whistling through the theater parking lot, but Dutch isn’t cheesy like that. He doesn’t care to make a scene.

We talked about things, like the way our toddler bosses everyone around. Kid is such a sass pants.

Dutch reminded me of the road trip when my dad saw a freeway sign for Arby’s and asked everyone in the car, “Arby’s—that’s not Burger King is it?”

The only way to respond to that question, btw, is: “No Dad. Arby’s is not Burger King.”

We shared a chocolate malt.

We saw a movie.

We stopped for groceries.

We returned home to find that Jack had enjoyed himself a sweet evening treat of a heaping 5 lb. bowl of m&m’s. Seriously kid. Save some for the food storage.

We call it our date night, but it’s really just couples therapy. (Dinner + cinema) – children = a cleansing of the emotional palate.

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