How's about cookin' somethin' up with me?

Nothing says romance like light beer and pizza. Hurray, Hurrah, it's date night at the Sabourins'! Skedaddle up to bed, kids! No, you cannot share my Junior Mints. Here's a kiss, brush your teeth, we'll see ya in the morning! It used to require more - more fanciness, more courses - to fill my "love tank." But now those couple of hours we somehow manage to steal (once a week, if we're really lucky) and the appetizer-less take-out meals are enough to make me giddy with anticipation, the whole day prior. I can remember, as a girl, fuming at night over the sound and smell of popping popcorn not intended for my brother and I. It's not fair, I thought bitterly, When I'm a parent, I'll always let my children stay up late and eat snacks with me. I also promised my future sons and daughters that I would never respond to their very enlightening musings with a distracted m-m, h-m-m while rudely continuing with the chores.

It turns out, I was sorely, gravely, destined to be, mistaken. Delight, my dear mother, in finally being understood by your daughter. I'll admit it, you were right to protect your one-on-one time with dad, and your stash of Hershey's chocolate. Here's to less than healthy treats used to sweeten up a marriage (and free DVD's at the library)!