I had a date with my husband last week. I was going to blog about it while I was in the afterglow of joy from the event. But then the apartment caught on fire, and then the Colts Game was on Sunday(yes I have a post about Sarah or IS IT about her coming) and then I had my birthday and YES I AM BEHIND.
So rewind. Pre-Fire.
The Husband and I have been wanting to have a hand holding sitting on the couch watching a movie like two kids in love sort of date for a while.
Life kept getting in the way. My PMS kept getting in the way. And it just kept not happening. He told me he had this special movie all picked out and it was something I'd really like etc....but it just kept not working out.
So finally. We had a night. It was a good day, we got the kids off to bed with minimal tears. We had wine, we settled down on the couch. He had me close my eyes while he loaded up the movie.
I nearly started sobbing. Want to know why? Because it was DIRTY DANCING.
Yes, that's right. DIRTY DANCING.
When I was in college there were two midnight movies. One was the old stand by Rocky Horror. The OTHER night was always Dirty Dancing. If you didn't have a date, and you had the buck for the cost of admission you'd go with the group of girls from my dorm downtown Terre Haute and sit through Dirty Dancing, one more time. Dirty Dancing is smuggled in cherry vodka to mix with your coke, it's a lonely weekend night without a date, it's being an OLDER teenager not yet a grown up, it's about being free but rudderless.
Dirty Dancing was a movie I never, ever watched with a boy.
I sat there, with the man I love, on the couch, drinking wine and holding hands. I laughed at the innocence of it.....and cried at the romantic parts. I looked for anachronisms when I could find them, and The Husband pointed them out as well. And for about 90 minutes, it's like I was never that girl who was pretending not to be sad because she was dateless.
Because I had the only date I'll ever want for the rest of my life.
And it was like watching a whole different movie.