A Kidless Date

As many of our avid readers (aka fans) know, this will be my first posting, as I have previously not had anything noteworthy to write. Today, however, is a day of grand celebration, in which you all will be excited to participate. It is the day of my victory. All hail the conquering hero! To my sweet wife I have but few simple words: "I totally kicked your trash, baby!" Last night we were fortunate to find a friend I work with willing to sit at our home instead of her own on a Saturday night so we could paint the town. Her only price was pizza, which we easily obliged. After tossing the kids in bed we raced off into the night with insane laughter trailing behind us as the feeling of freedom swept over us. Our first stop was a trip down decadence lane (the Dairy Queen drive-thru). We each got blizzards - mine was a cotton candy with too much candy, and Jess's was a chocolate cookie dough with too much dough. We sat in the car at the Adventure Crossing parking lot to eat our ice cream treats while we talked and listened to Colors (there is something quite funny about listening to white guys rap). Somehow our childish giddiness at having these treats faded dramatically as the daunting task of scooping spoonfuls of sweet fat into our mouths became too much for our stomachs to bear. Perhaps you've been there before and now feel like barfing. In any case I opted to throw the last bit of mine at the windshield of the car next to ours and then use my finger to write the explicative "dork" with the splattered remains.* This, of course, boosted my mood considerably and so having abandoned the scene we made our way to the putt putt golf course.

I had warned Jess already that I was an amazingly gifted player not to be trifled with, but she insisted on trifling anyway. I rarely enjoy bragging, but this is a special occasion (our anniversary) , so I will commence. In the 17 holes we were able to play (one was flooded) I sunk the ball in only 2 shots for 10 of them (hold applause). Not only that but on the 18th hole I was able to close my eyes, bounce the ball off an intruding rock and sink a hole in one as the sky simultaneously clapped thunder in praise.* Throughout the course I could be heard for miles yelling such wild phrases as "yeah baby!", "eat that sugar!" and "Man, I'm good!." The experience was only slightly marred by the presence of Jess's purse on my shoulder while she was taking her shots.*** In the end with an astounding 13 point lead, which, I can humbly say would hardly have been possible if not for Jess's unfortunate luck. Thank you, honey. After my victory dance, we held hands to enter the realm of the arcade underworld.

If any of you have never been to a modern arcade, you may not realize that it has become a dance studio in which young men of large stature can, with precision and perspiration, pump out the latest and greatest dance moves on a game called "Dance Dance Revolution" (or maybe dance dance revulsion, I forget which). Jess and I were amazed to see these huge-footed shaggy-haired teenagers dancing as though the world around them didn't exist at all - they didn't even notice Jess staring with an open mouth 2 feet away.*** If nothing else they should have at least had the courtesy to stop and notice how hot she is. Jerks! Anyway, back to the purpose at hand. We found the air hockey table and found it had some credits as well. We played hard and laughed harder, but in the end there could only be one champion. You know who that was, right? Heck yes, it was me! I totally kicked her trash around the block and back again. At this point you may be thinking to yourself, "How could Adam be so harsh and unfeeling as to rub such a ruthless victory in the beautiful face of his 5 year wife?" Well, I am a fan of the truth. The truth hurts sometimes. Being a fan of the truth that I am is very difficult at times. As such, I will also tell the harrowing tale of Jess's triumph over me in one very close game of hockey.*** She shot, I shot, She shot, I shot. It was intense. Suddenly I found myself falling (fallen) behind. Sweat beaded my forehead and ran down my back to escape into the great white canyon. As the last shot was on the line time slowed; I lunged; a quick "no" attempted to escape my lips, but it was too late. The deed was done. I, the great champion of all games everywhere, had been defeated. Tears could not be held back, so in an effort to hide them I joined ranks with the sweating behemoths on the Dance Dance machine.* After few short moments, they quite naturally realized I was too cool to belong and disowned me.

The other highlight of our date was finding an abandoned game booth with curtains on the sides for some sort of shooting game and turning it into a make-out booth. We both won at this little game.

Thanks for reading. I'm sure you are a better person now.

*These marks indicate something that may be slightly embellished, or a flat out lie
***These marks indicate something that is quite unfortunately very true.
******These are six astricksies.