The babysitter confirmed. We were ready to go for Sunday afternoon at 4:30. Amazesitter is one of my Sunday school students, so confirming was easy. She was excited. I was stoked for the Sundate. Things were in place.
As is customary, I didn’t tell my wife the details until a few days after she would have liked to know. That translates to several hours before the event.
“Oh, I thought we could go at night when the babies are in bed or calmed down a bit. Like, 6:30 maybe?” she said.
“No problem! I can text her. I’m sure it will be fine.”
I was confident. I was hopeful. I was speedy in my texting.
No response.
The princesses were about the business of ruling the outside kingdom with pink iron fists. Amazewife chilled on the couch. Some time passed. I texted again.
No response.
I tried to call. No answer at Amazesitter’s home.
I felt worried. I’d heard something had come up for her family. I hoped it wasn’t serious.
I also felt the Sundate being threatened.
“You know, maybe we could hit up those one friends,” I suggested later, “You know, the ones that said they would love to watch the girls when we do a Sundate sometime.”
“Yeah! We can reschedule…” my wife started.
“I mean, today. Maybe we can ask them to do it, you know… today.”
Amazewife reminded me with love that we are human beings and considerate in theory, if not in nature.
My heart dropped.
“It’s ok, honey. We’ll have a fun Sundate in a couple weeks!”
I resigned to our fate. Sad. Cold. Hungry (dinner wasn’t ate yet.) Sundate-less.
Time went by. Three came and went. Four came and went. The original time, 4:30, came and went. I tried another couple of calls. Nothing. I smiled, sat in front of the heater, and we ate dinner.
I didn’t eat dinner in front of my heater. You know what I meant.
I felt better and looked forward to a couple of weeks from then.
The girls went back outside after dinner. I told my wife I was going to take a bath and read. Tonight’s adventure: Ender’s Game. I’m working on a novel, so I wanted to dissect O.S. Card’s writing style for science. (No. Vivisect. I wanted to vivisect it.)
I went upstairs. Ender’s game was on the top shelf of a white bookshelf. I heard my wife talking to one of my daughters as she came in from the porch. Book in hand, I came down the stairs. When I reached the bottom-
“Hey, look who’s here!” My wife says.
I look to the couch. It was Amazesitter! I looked at the clock. It was 6:30! She came!
Turns out she meant to text me back, but didn’t, and that she was sorry.
SUNDATE. It was ON.
We went to Council Bluffs. We visited the Ruth Ann Dodge memorial. Sculpted by Daniel Chester French - the dude that made Seated Lincoln on the Mall - this memorial is rich in history and cool symbolism. It was made a long, long time ago. It is pure bronze. There are neat scriptures listed on the monument. It’s a neat place!
The neatest part about it, though: every three minutes or so, a disembodied voice would chime:
“WARNING: YOU ARE BEING PHOTOGRAPHED”
It was a commanding male voice. There was no mistake. We knew we were being photographed. We joined in on the fun.
The sun was going down, so we headed away from the statue. Down the hill towards Omaha is another monument. This one stood to commemorate Abe Lincoln’s declaration of Council Bluffs as the Eastern Terminus of the first transcontinental line. Amazewife got some cool pictures.
In the spirit of Halloween, I was approached by a jet black cat. He said something about witches, Bette Midler, vacuums and some dude with his mouth sown shut.
“Good kitty, you’re so pretty!” I responded, scratching right in front of the base of his tail. He lifted his back in appreciation. A van appeared around the corner, headlights blazing.
The cat scurried off and we got in the car.
Then, it was on to Bayliss Park. We looked at the war memorial, the squirrels, the pretty lights and the Dome.
All-in-all, Sundate was a success. Nothing like killing your debt, building a home, and getting to improve our marriage for free. I was as happy as a dog in pajamas.
ROE INTENSE
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