In our house, there are two nights a week that we are busy. On Wednesday, I travel to my weekly knitting circle. Occasionally I have dinner with a girl friend beforehand or stop in a shop in the town where we meet. We sit around the Espresso Bar (or on special occasions, The Shenandoah Chocolate Bar), laughing, knitting and enjoying each others' company. This night is a great help to my sanity so I feel no guilt leaving my husband home alone to fend for himself.
There is usually leftovers in the fridge, should he choose. But me not eating with him means he gets to go to places that I won't eat. Like Chipotle, which uses cilantro in everything that I can't stand. It's like serving me rice with a heaping spoonful of Ivory dish soap on top. Eww. Or Chic-fil-A, that I won't patron for their corporate policies and beliefs. Which I won't get started on.
The reverse happens on Thursday nights when dear hubby has poker night with the boys. They have Chen's Famous Chinese or Rocklands BBQ, and play cards trying to get each others' parking change. And while he's away, I get to eat things that he won't. Tofu and broccoli, Boca burgers and zucchini or if the mood strikes, nothing but a huge bowl of popcorn.
It works for us, having our own special time with friends. And at night when we get home, the other is there to snuggle up to.
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