Friday night is date night. During our premarital counselling — highly recommended, by the way — Matthew and I were encouraged to make a weekly date night a priority. And because we [usually] play by the rules, we set aside Friday nights. (It helps that we like dating each other. A lot.)
From time to time, something will pop up and we'll reschedule. But as a general rule, Friday's ours.
Last night, Matthew made steak. With a chianti butter sauce. Served with olive-oil mashed potatoes.
He even bought flowers.
It was mmmmmmmmm.........
And then, because my body apparently isn't used to digesting red meat, I had a nightmare about my in-laws' pet tiger wanting to cuddle with me — likely to the death.
MATT: Where was I in this awesome dream?
ME: Napping in Wal-Mart's furniture department.
MATT: What?! I totally would have been cuddling that tiger!
Who says romance is dead?