It was such a relaxing weekend!  (And much-needed.)  It's strange I can say that, come to think of it, because I had two shoots on Saturday and one of them was partially rained-out so we had to finish it up on Sunday.  But I guess it was relaxing because we kicked the weekend off with a Friday date night and then finished it with a long nap on Sunday, followed by watching "Enchanted" with the kids in our bed.  NAPS are the best! 

But let's get back to the date night for a minute.  No, for the rest of this post- 

This is the first year in our 7.7917 years of marriage that we have been able to afford date nights once or twice a month, (and that we have seen the need of date nights with so much busyness in life right now.)  We used to make dinner together, have a drink, and watch a movie- all at home- and call it a date.  That no longer suffices because we feel so drawn to our work, or a Bible study, or the child who wakes up with a bad dream.  And a date night is worth getting a night off from bedtime routines now and then alone!

So for our Friday date, we ate dinner out, and then there weren't any movie times that suited us so we decided to get all wild and crazy and go bowling.  I had completely forgotten how competitive I am!  I think Shaun had, too.  (Not to mention, I'm the biggest trash-talker this side of the landfill.)  Poor Shaun.

No.  NO!  NOT poor Shaun because poor Shaun kicked my trash-talkin' tail.  The Lord willed it- I needed some serious humbling that night.  And not only in bowling.

We played arcade games while waiting for a lane to open.  We shot hoops first.  All I could think was we have to get a basketball hoop at home because I think I could seriously bring it, so I said to Shaun, we should get a basketball hoop at home. 

Then air hockey was up. I flung the first few pucks in his goal, then made the decision to casually say "yeah, we had an air hockey table growing up." BIG MISTAKE.  Bragging before victory is always a big mistake, and I knew it the minute it was out of my mouth. 

Now, he took the boasting in stride, (being the bigger person of the two of us,) and smiled and asked if that was right.  Then he slung the next 7 pucks into my goal. 

Then we played again.  (OHHHH, it was ON!)  Then I lost again (but only after having my hopes up very high.)  I even pulled some armpit muscle I didn't know existed, getting downright violent in the horror of it all. How am I ever going to make my comeback bowling with this pulled muscle was all I could think.

Lucky for me, I thought, Shaun has been eyeing the Nascar racing machine all night, and I stored that away in the back of my mind as a chance to really make him hurt- even with a pulled armpit muscle.

The time came, and we sat down in the driver seats. I was already ahead of him, mentally and all, because when it was time to select players I went after his favorite driver, Dale Jr., with every ounce of my being. 

He said, "you already picked someone- who?" 

"Dale" I said casually, then smiled as wide as a wolf.  I could feel the light flash off my sharpest tooth and hear the high pitched chime as it did. 

The race started and I tore it up... I mean I was all over the track (and the grass and other cars.)  I'd overheard Shaun talk of drafting before, and knew this must have had something to do with catching the draft off other cars, so I was all over my competition.  I passed Shaun up several times. 

Final Lap-  HE WON AGAIN.

"How did you DO that!!!"  I screamed incredulously.

"I drafted... you don't know how to draft." 

He said this not in a mean way, but in an I watch the sport, you don't way.

The worst thing about Shaun winning is that WHEN he wins, he doesn't gloat.  For some reason that DRIVES ME CRAZY.  It's worse than gloating, it's a quiet gloating... no.  No, it's more like well I already knew I was so much superior at this than you that it's no surprise, no need to gloat, I mean it's not even a big deal to me.  Yet, inwardly I know his heart is doing back flips, and his big lofty brain is high-fiving his drummer hands. 

Then I took a rest and watched him play a game of pinball.  He took it very seriously and all- something about his dad being a record pinball player.  (And would somebody PLEASE explain to me the intrigue of pinball because I'm completely missing it... what makes one pin ball player better than another?  Other than the points.  Now really.)

Anyway, our name was then called, our lane was open, and you can imagine the amount of pressure the arcade experience had put on our bowling game. 

I carefully chose a heavy, lime green ball, was first up.  I bowled a spare, which was amazing for somebody who generally can't bowl to save her life.  This was followed by a strike, making me entirely too full of myself too soon.  As in keeping with the rest of the night, it went WAY downhill from there.  (And that was even with the help of a pro bowler in the lane next to us.) 

He was heavy-set, with a black pony tail and tan skin and wore a shirt that said Fighting Terrorism since 1492.  He had arm bands around his forearms, a very serious-looking ball and bag, a whole lane to himself just for practice. 

Can I give you some advice, he asked me while Shaun was up.

Please, I begged him quietly, so Shaun would think my comeback was all MY doing.

You don't have to go so hard at it, a slow ball is fine.  And keep your body straight, point your shoulder where you want your ball to go.

Hmm, I thought, that piece of advice could pretty much be aimed at my entire life.

I wanted to make pro-bowler proud, though.  So I did what he said, however, with little improvement.  He tried to give a nod of approval where he could, but my arm was tired and my husband was smiling humbly and still not gloating.  It was all over for me.

I told my friend on the phone the next day, "I forgot how competitive I was- it felt soooo good." 

She assured me that as long as it didn't ruin my whole night it wasn't a bad sort of competitive, though I'll admit that I said to Shaun on the way home, "Now we have to go home and play some card games- we can't end it like this." 

And yes, by like this, I meant with me losing. As though he would see my point, that it could only end with him losing.  But I'm writing about it more seriously than I lived it.  It was a really fun night, and it felt good. When it was over, it was over. 

Well. I can't lie.  It was over until next date night.  (Which may be the only reason I could let it go in the first place...) there's always next time.