dining without children
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
On several occasions since The Boy's birth, we've eaten nice meals (cough cough, "without kids") because The Boy was fairly good with sleeping through the late afternoon-evening if we got lucky. Not so with The Girl.
And with everything else we've put ourselves through recently, we've just not had the time to go out for a nice dinner.
Until tonight. We had a superb tapas meal at a place on King Street. We talked about basically everything *but* kids for the first time in a long, long time. In fact we decided that it had been two months .. less than three years.