Date Night

The kids had a tough time getting out of bed this morning. They were all out way too late on dates last night. Dates that involved romantic dinners, dancing until their feet hurt, and running around in the dark. In the words of Little One to a very impressed friend at church this morning, "We were not even home when it was supposed to be bed time!" Can you even imagine!?

Last night was the annual Daddy-Daughter Dance put on by the local Catholic Church. Daddy and Second-Grader have now gone three times together. Little One went for the first time last year and was less than impressed. (Here is the link to last year's dance.) This year she was a bit more excited because she remembered she could have as many little bags of potato chips as she wanted while at the dance. They had a wonderful time getting all dressed up, dancing, and being silly (and eating chips. Daddy wisely cut her off at three bags). It was raining this year, so no pretty outside photos before the dance. But Daddy did figure out how to use the burst setting on his phone, so I got to see some of the action via photo flip book when they got home.

Daddy-Daughter Dance, Saturday, March 16.

While Daddy and the girls were out on the town, The Oldest and I had our own date night. We double dated with one of The Oldest's best friends and his mom. Here they are when they were just little buckaroos.

The Oldest and his buddy- Wednesday, November 3, 2004.

Same buckaroos, just a whole lot bigger.

The Oldest and his buddy- Saturday, November 11, 1012.

Instead of dancing until the wee hours of the morning, we went out for dinner and then played laser tag. Up until this point, I have successfully avoided having to ever play laser tag, and I have been thankful. Some of our friends turned 40 and 45 this past year and held a laser tag birthday party. I managed to snag little kid watching duty to avoid having to actually play a round of laser tag. And I was really, really good with that. But when The Oldest and I were busy planning our date night, each and every one of his ideas continued to somehow lead into a round of laser tag, and I caved. I roped in my best of friends, who was also daddy and daughter-less due to the dance, and our fearsome foursome arrived at the local laserdome ready for action (well mostly). I sat through the informational video wondering what would happen if I just snuck out the back door. It was really dark in there and I was pretty sure no one would notice over the blaring music and flashing strobe lights. I was about to try it when I noticed how brightly the whites of everyone's eyes were glowing under the black lights and figured I would surely be spotted. As I quickly thought about trying to escape with my eyes closed, the referee asked if anybody had any questions and excitedly yelled "Game time!" And just like that I was being swept into the inner bowels of the arena and fitted with a glowing vest. As I looked at all the buttons and numbers and flashing lights, I realized I probably should have purposed to pay much closer attention to the instructional video. My planned escape had totally backfired. Not only was I not safely tucked away in little kid play land, I was now getting charged up for a game I had no idea how to play. Thankfully there was a little man in my vest who kept yelling, "HOLD DOWN THE BUTTONS BEFORE PULLING THE TRIGGER!" and "YOU HAVE SENSORS ON YOUR GUN AND VEST THAT CAN BE HIT BY THE OTHER TEAM!"

I ran in circles panicking for a few moments and then suddenly remembered the scene in the movie Gettysburg where Chamberlain and his men are desperately trying to hold the high ground on Little Round Top. I lifted my eyes to the hills and noticed that the third and upper level of the course was totally unmanned. It was then that I made my move. I took the high ground and went crazy knocking out blue vests left and right. Two different times a snarky teenager tried to oust me from my spot of glory, but I remembered Chamberlain and determined I would not loose my position. I pointed my red laser at the guy and gave my best fake-army snarl and he ran away with his tail between his legs. When the loudspeaker announced the round was over, all of my sensors lit up and the little man inside my vest began shouting, "OVERALL HIGH SCORE! OVERALL HIGH SCORE!" I had gone from terrified first time soldier to receiving the laser tag medal of honor in a span of ten minutes. I was thrilled and satisfied, and ready to hit the snack bar.

But then the little man in my vest began shouting, "START OF ROUND TWO!" What?! Nobody told me I had to do this more than once. I managed to make it through the next two rounds, somehow achieving top score on my team in round three. But by the time round four started, I parked myself in the middle of the floor and didn't really care who knew I was there. In a last ditch effort to avoid totally embarrassing The Oldest, I did find a great hiding place on the first floor where I could sniper-style repeatedly take out one girl on the blue team. I ended round four last place on my team and second to last overall. On our way out, The Oldest's friend kept shaking his head and saying, "I've never lost laser tag before. I've just never lost."

Sorry boys. My glory was short lived. Next time I'll be sure to invite people who have kids under seven who actually enjoy playing laser tag so I can can get stuck watching their children while you work to rebuild your laser tag honor.

First place glory in green. Last place disgrace in gold- Saturday, March 16.