Us back in 2004
Last week, Wes and I had a date night.
You might think we go off on wild and exciting adventures when we have date nights. Actually, if you know us, there’s no way you would think that. Our activity of choice when we have a date night? We point ourselves towards the nearest retail store and spend hours walking the aisles together, talking without two of the chattiest girls in the world interrupting us with such gems as, “So, Mommy, you know how on that episode of Jessie, she, like, got a bucket stuck on her head?” and “Hey, Papi, I can touch my ear with my tongue — watch!” (Yes, these are real conversation starters in our family.)
Talking to each other? Actually being able to hear one another? Actually being able to think up intelligent responses because we’re not fielding cray-cray answers to even crazier questions?! It beats any movie/dinner date out there. (And it’s cheaper!)
One of our favorite things to do on these little date night window shopping trips is to play, “If we were going to do it all over again…” I like dragging Wes over to jewelry cases and saying, “If I was going to do it all over again, I would pick an engagement ring like this.” (He hates this game. Usually because I pick exactly what he got me, so what’s the point, right?) He likes taking me over to the travel book section and saying, “If we were going to do it all over again, we would go to this place before we had children.” (I like this game. Because it turns into “We will go to this place when the girls are old enough to appreciate it with us… or we’ll just wait until they’re grown and gone!” Yes! That’ll be cheaper!)
But our most favorite place of all to play this game is Bed, Bath, and Beyond, where we “redo” our wedding registry. Oh, y’all, back in 2004 when we registered there for real we didn’t have any idea what we were doing, and I think we spent more time kissing in the aisles than we did actually looking at the products and making wise decisions. We feel like we’ve learned a thing or two since then and that we’d do a much better job if we had it to do all over again.
We went into the game this past time telling ourselves that the sky was the limit. We could “register” for anything. What would we do if we could do it all over again?
Here’s what we concluded…
– We should have registered for at least one more of those stainless steel mixing bowls. Because they can take a beating from — oh, I don’t know — a hand-mixer accidentally set on pulverize by a newlywed wife and only come away with minor dings and scrapes. Register for three more, girl. Because that’s gonna happen more than once.
– We should’ve skipped over the fondue maker and gotten a huge griddle instead. As an idealistic bride-to-be, I thought marriage to Wes was going to be chocolate covered strawberries in bed. As it turns out, it’s breakfast tacos in front of the TV. I need a griddle big enough for bacon, eggs, sausage, and whatever other meat we have in the house, because it’s all going in the breakfast taco. (“I love bacon, I love ESPN, and I love you.” Better than my idealistic musings, y’all.)
– Wes still hates flowery candle scents. If it doesn’t smell edible, he’s not doing it. (Though he’s conceded that the laundry fresh scent candles are good. Probably because he now knows what laundry fresh smells like since someone does his laundry for him. Not the case back when he was living in his bachelor pad…)
– Fancy drink ware is totally unnecessary. It just gets kicked aside for those souvenir plastic cups you get at the Rockets game and the rodeo. The glasses we thought we’d use? Yeah, they’re pushed to the back of the cabinet to make room for cups with Dwight Howard’s face on them. Two-tone, so it looks like he’s shooting a basket when you move it!
– Wes can now appreciate fancy wall art. “You mean, we could’ve had this beautiful print instead of the big, yellow warning sign you have about toxic gas?” (Yes, y’all. When I married him, he brought a warning sign about toxic gas into our first home together and actually tried to convince me that it would look good in our living room. And he still has it and will likely hang it up in the house when he sees that I’ve told you about it…)
– We shouldn’t have gotten the hard to assemble furniture accents. “I remember yelling a lot when I was trying to put this together,” Wes concluded. “And then it fell apart a week after you assembled it,” I pointed out. Not worth the headache. Register for the sno cone machine instead!
– Girly bedspreads are still girly. His only two conditions eleven years ago when we picked out our bedroom linens were one, no pastels and two, no flowers. A decade of marriage and two very girly daughters later, and he still won’t go for flowers or pastels. Crazy orange paisleys, though, that I would never pick? He’s all about those. “You have hideous taste!” “But I picked you…” Point taken.
– Satin sheets… ooh, ahh, noooooo. “It sounded really amazing back before we got married,” I told him, “but I sleep with you now, and you sweat buckets on cotton sheets. You’d sweat and slide right off the bed if we got these slippery ones.” Aww, that’s love! Knowing your man’s got the world’s sweatiest head but loving him anyway!
– More wooden spoons! More spatulas! More cutting boards! You’ll burn, break, destroy each and every one you’re given within the first two months of marriage because neither one of you knows what you’re doing in the kitchen. “Remember when that cutting board just fell right in half?!”
– Memory foam pillows are the greatest blessing our marriage has known. What about our two children? I stand by my words, y’all. Memory foam pillows are the greatest blessing our marriage has known. We’d register for a couple more of those because after eleven years of Wes’s sweaty head on them, they’re not as glamorous as they once were. (Oh, but we’ll never give them up, sweat stains and all!)
– A man only needs one towel. We registered for towels by the truckload, and Wes has never ever in eleven years of marriage used more than this one towel. It started off as a creamy color, and it’s practically transparent now, given the gaping holes in it, the stringy sides, and the thinness of the material. “There’s a whole cabinet full of better towels, Wes!” No doing. A man only needs one towel.
We spent those three hours in the store laughing at how dumb we’d been and how tacky our tastes were… and at how dumb we still are and how even tackier our tastes are now. We talked about how we’d do it all if we were doing it all over again and concluded this…
“I’d still do this, you and me, if I could do it all over again.”
So thankful for date nights and for this sweet marriage…