It is rare that Cory and I get to go out. Alone. As adults. You know, still a couple- not just mom and dad. We did that last night.
I got all dolled up- which means I put on clean clothes and combed my hair. Just kidding, I really did- and it was fun, and we felt grown up. For a few hours.
We went to go see W. It was a great movie, and we really liked it.
Then we went to dinner. It was not a great dinner, and I did not really like it.
We splurged, and ordered an appetizer. It was greasy, and left a funny film in my mouth.
Then, because I am watching my weight (of course!) I decided to try to be good, and ordered a seared Ahi salad. Booooo salad. The salad was mushy, and there was like a pound of ginger in the middle, so it looked like a big salad but it was not. I can deal with this, no big deal. But then I got to the Ahi- also mushy. Blah.
The waiter was totally cool though, and took it off. (So long gigantic unaffordable bill!)
At this point, we are tiiiiiiiiiiiiired from the time change, it has been so long since my face has seen makeup that it is now sliding off, and I am starving- so we go.
Then we decided that it was probably time to get los boyos from my dear mother in laws house. Totally missed the whole dinner, bedtime, story routine which is pretty sweet.
Until we get outside.
And Oliver starts hacking....and hacking.....and really hacking....
and throws up all over me.
We are talking projectile vomiting here folks.
I saw cookies, I smelled sprite, I met his hot dog dinner. Part of it is still in my adorable new(ish) flats.
When we got home, Oliver wrapped in my beautiful Ivory car coat, I asked him if he wanted some cough syrup.
His response- "No I want waffle syrup"
And our date night was over, projectile vomiting and all.