The date night

Last week, Matt needed some nails for a project and headed for his pickup to run to the hardware store. “Want to come?” he asked me.

I hopped in with him. No time for makeup or perfume. Just grabbed a jacket and away we went. We talked about his work schedule, the next construction project he had planned, the shipment of supplies coming in.

At the hardware store, he showed me a new tool he’d like to buy soon. “It’d save me a lot of time but it’s expensive,” he said.

On the way home, he whipped into McDonalds. “Want an ice cream cone?” We licked ice cream and leaned over the Clorox-damp plastic table before heading home.

We counted that as a date night. My friend is married to a farmer, so she counts times when she rides the combine with him during harvest as a date night. It's hot and dirty but they're together.

Once I grumbled: how could he not find time for his family? For me?

I have a book about creative date night ideas. I wondered why he couldn’t read that, so we’d go do exciting things like fly kites together under the stars.

But when I read the one about catching frogs and having a frog-jumping contest, I decided these were not meant for real people anyway.

I decided to pitch the attitude and get to know my husband’s world. It means going to hardware stores and talking about power tools but he held my hand all the way home and shared his heart. Not a bad date night, all in all.