Hot Date at Sam’s Club

I write a column for a local magazine about how to have romantic date nights with your spouse. I give really good advice like committing to a regular night, shaking things up with novel activities, and taking that extra time to prepare for and flirt with your spouse.

I’m such a fraud.

On a recent Saturday night my husband and I experienced the rare thrill of being childless for a few hours. I sat on his lap and told him there was something I really, really wanted to do. Before he even had time to ponder the possibilities, I laid it on him: I wanted to go to Sam’s Club.

I needed to scope out the food options for the fortieth birthday party I’m planning for myself. (In more romantic couples, the person not actually having the big milestone birthday might be the one to plan the party, but this is about us.) Let the dating begin!

At the optical counter I talked John into some stylish new frames. A few minutes later we shared samples of Goldfish crackers and compared the price of meat and cheese trays. He told me he’d take care of everything for the party, which is not how it will work, but it sounded nice and saying pretty things is half of romance.

This tray of enchaladas wouldn’t let us go. The date would now include a romantic meal complete with free appetizers: pizza, granola bars, sausage. We talked with people we knew–a neighbor, a friend, a co-worker. Turned out Sam’s was the place to be that Saturday night.

We even held hands.

There were no cute jeans, no sexy shoes. I didn’t blow out my hair or retouch my makeup. But it was nice. This errand I could have done on my own was as good a date as any. Doing it together reminded me of how life used to be before the business end of our family got so big it required dividing up all the little tasks that used to bring us together.

We went home and shared those enchaladas in the living room like old times. John tried to sit next to me on the love seat, but it wasn’t comfortable and we’ve got nothing to prove so he headed over to the recliner. And he let me pick the movie.

Maybe I’m not such a fraud after all.