Skip to main content

Date Night

 If your spouse is generally enthusiastic, then date night can be a challenge; you have to establish ground rules.


My husband has a strong connection to musical theater, and this can be a problem: Once, we went to a screening of "Newsies on Broadway: One Night Only," and I had to remind Marc that the event was not a sing-along.

Additionally, in "Frozen," Marc gasped in horror when a crucial trickster character was "unmasked." The gasp became an event for literally everyone in orchestra seating.

I was really proud of my husband for holding it together at "The Sound of Music" last week; he did have some belly-laughs, but no one noticed. The lines that really "spoke" to him: "Sister Hester, the convent is no place for the pious." "Gretl can't sing because she pinched her finger." "Mother gives all postulant clothing away to the poor....but...this dress? The poor didn't want this one."

At intermission, Marc sprinted to the gift shop, where he bought himself an XL tee: The front-centered image is (of course) Maria with her arms wide, but, instead of clothing, a field of Edelweiss has wrapped itself around her torso.

"Some say 'Carousel' is the best of Richard Rodgers," Marc whispered, "but those people have lost their minds...."

He began to hoot, as if at a Lakers game. The lights were dimming; all around us, hearts were beating like the wings of the birds that rise from the lake to the trees. This was my December date night.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more