Last Friday night, hubs and I dropped off one daughter at basketball practice and headed off to date night. We debated whether to see a movie or not. Threw around the idea of shooting pool at Dave and Busters. Maybe go on a yacht. Even considered driving into Manhattan just to walk around Time Square. In the end, exhaustion helped us to make our decision. We decided to stay local, check out an eatery we have been eyeing for years and walk along the water.
As we drove a few miles from our house to Oyster Bay, the bowl of soup I downed an hour ago seemed to have disappeared. “I’m starving!”
Hand in hand, we stroll over to Roosevelt Park, just a few short blocks from the restaurant. As we walk down the street, an animal larger than a cat but smaller than a mid-sized dog trots across the road. “Is that a fox!?!”
Sure enough, a fox crossed our path, right here on the North Shore of Long Island. I had no ideas foxes even lived out here. The last time we saw a similar skinny legged, bushy-tailed, furry fellow was in Alaska. Wow!
We slowed our pace until our foxy friend was almost out of sight, then continued toward the park. I love this little place. We come here often with the girls, because of it has a great playground and nice, flat paths they can bike on. Tonight it’s just Hubs and me, and he wants to take us down a different pathway.
“Let’s go this way.” Hubs suggests we turn down a dock I’ve never noticed before.
As we walk along, we pass the rows and rows of boats, and hubs pulls me over to take a look. I’m not nervous like I used to be. In the past, if Hubs showed me a cool motorcycle, sports car, or fancy anything, I would freak out! Because I’d immediately think, “Oh no! You want one of those too!”
As we mosey along to the end of the dock that overlooks the water, I bring hubs arms around my waist, my back leaning on his chest. The air is perfectly cool. And the moon is on the water tonight. Almost start humming the tune of that song—you know the one: “When you get caught between the moon and New York City…”
“Mitt’s Vice Presidential candidate is kinda cute!” It’s just an observation.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Hubs is not amused.
Sheesh. Can’t a girl joke around?
We turn and walk around the boats to another dock and now we’re having a heated political debate, except I’m contributing about 2% of useful information to the conversation. Okay, maybe 1%. I vow to watch the rest of the debates right there and then. When I cast my vote on November 6th, I don’t want to just cancel out Hubs vote like last time. I want to make sure I’ve actually thought about the issues. Not just who looks better on the $7 dollar bill when it comes out. What? You didn’t hear about that? Read the news. It was all over Facebook last week! 😉
Then, just as we’re about to make out on the deck like two teens, [Kidding. I know. I need to stop.] But this part is true. The cops shine their floodlights on us. We’re so busted, and all I can think as they drive closer to talk to us is, “Oh man! The last time I got arrested…”
“Parks closed folks,” is all the officer said.
“No problem. We’re just leaving.” Hubs handled it. Better he speak than me we’ve concluded by this stage in our marriage.
And as we stroll back to the car, I have a sudden urge to try an alternate route. Hubs concedes, but not too happily. “Why don’t we just leave the park the way we came in?”
“This way, we get to walk over the train tracks. And I’m pretty sure this way brings us closer to the car.” I’m as sure as I am about who’s going to win the election, really. Yeah. Not so sure.
Turns out there’s a gate at that exit. And it’s locked. Which ticks Hubs off even more. “We just told the cops we’re leaving. Now it looks like we’re lingering.” Oops. My bad.
Sigh.
So as we retrace our steps, I get the firm pull of the hand. He’s leading now. And I need to shhh it up and follow. I can do that. Hey, it was an honest mistake. Just poorly timed. Oh well, whatcha gonna do?
As we drive home from our Foxy Friday night date, I think about the two boats I saw earlier that night. They stood next to each other.
One named, “Grace.”
The other, “Ever After.”
And that’s what it comes down to marriage for me. For us. If we’re going for the “Ever After,” it’s gonna take a whole lot of Grace. Yes it is.
Enough for today.
More for tomorrow.
Thank God for grace.
I want goat cheese ravioli! You didn’t leave any for us And you got stopped by cops all in one night! Mom, not to be harsh but you’ve got some work to do. J/K
– the one and only, bubbles 0Oo
Bubs… I’ll save you some next time! Fo Sho! 🙂 -Mama Bear