Chris and I dropped Gwen off at the grandparents' at 4pm. I had a brief moment of worry because I thought it might be weird for her to be dropped off by both of us: in general, Chris drops her off at daycare or Gramma's, and we take turns picking her up. On the other hand, I couldn't very well just sit on the couch watching downloaded episodes of Chuck while Chris drove out to Nanoose and back, so we went together. My worry may have been justified: Gwen was very happy to see Gramma and Grandpa, and set about exploring immediately, but when Chris and I said "Bye-bye" and walked out the door, she gave us very confused and annoyed looks through the window.
An actual conversation that took place last night, which may only be funny if you know Keith and Karen:
Chris: I gave them my cell phone number "just in case".
Laura: They won't call, you know. Gwen would have to be missing a limb for them to call.
Chris: Even then, they probably wouldn't call.
Laura: No, they'd call the next day. "Hi guys, it's just me, I don't want you to worry or anything, but when you come get Gwen, she's missing a limb."
Chris: "We found it though, so we just packed it in with her pajamas and stuff."
Laura: "And then we gave her some ice cream, so she feels much better now."
We came home to an empty house, which was super weird, and decided to head out for an early dinner since the play was general seating. We got all fancied up in swanky clothes and then realized there was no one to take a picture of us in all our hotness. We did our best though.
For our dinner we chose The Keg, for the simple and beautiful reason that we had gift cards for it. Chris ordered a whole lobster and I ordered the Bleu Cheese Filet. We did not discuss Gwen, her diaper rash, or my job, but instead spent the lengthy dinner talking mostly about church politics (as I am on Church Council). My husband is the most patient and understanding man in the entire world, because that is the most boring subject ON EARTH.
I, however, learned that it takes a goodly long time to eat a lobster. When he finally finished, the play was due to start in only 25 minutes. There was then this kerfuffle about how only one person in the restaurant knew how to process gift cards and that person was perpetually elsewhere. We were getting slightly panicked because whenever we go out to any kind of theatre production (which used to be far more often than now) we always make sure to get there in plenty of time, and inevitably after the lights go down and the show begins a group of Those People shuffle in, Those People who don't bother to show up on time and have to be seated in the dark while some poor soul with a flashlight bravely attempts to find them seats, and whomever is trying to start the show is feeling all awkward, and all the people who got there on time are all annoyed and maybe even have to get up to let These People through, and then Those People settle into their seats and take off their coats and hats and chitter-chat amongst themselves and try to find their programs in the dark and just generally do all the things that they should have done 30 minutes earlier, and Chris and I always exchange looks and snotty comments about how rude and ignorant Those People are. So now it's 15 minutes until the play begins and we are still standing in the restaurant waiting to pay and we look at each other with this sad, desperate look, and I say, "We're going to be Those People." And Chris nods in resignation.
But miracles do happen, and the one knowledgeable waitstaff did arrive, and we were able to pay and depart and we made it to the theatre (which was only about half full) in good time, so crisis was averted.
And the play was absolutely mind-blowingly terrific, and we both had a really great time. And then we came home again to an empty house and stood right outside Gwen's room talking loudly, because that's the kind of giddy crazy that we are.
This morning, the giddy crazy metamorphosed into stone cold practicality, and I insisted that Chris vacuum before we go pick up Gwen, which he happily did. Gwen, it turns out, had just as marvellous a night as we did, and went to sleep somewhere around 9:30. Judging by our tepid welcome, she didn't miss us one bit, and the grandparents graciously declared the evening a success and would be happy to do it again. Hooray!