A (So-Called) Date Night Adventure.

Friday night marked a momentous occasion in my little world. It was a Date Night. The second one in less than a month!

Now, for the two of you reading this who are not mothers of young children, that might seem like no big thing, but let me assure you, it is. Was. A very big deal. One involving the curling of hair, application of makeup, and payment of babysitters.

We intended to start the evening off at our favorite children-not-welcome bar/restaurant. Because we? Were child and stroller free!

That dream came to an end about 30 seconds after we sat down. The very same moment a 40-something pseudo-sorority snot informed us that every open table was reserved. Every. Single. One.

I almost said something about her needing to save all that room so she’d have somewhere to put her overly Botoxed face when it slid off her anorexic bones…but I just grabbed Brian's hand and  harrumphed out of the restaurant.

So instead we decided to try this heavily hyped eatery we’d never been to. It’s helmed by a former big city chef, has a “concept” and lines that frequently extend out the door, so we figured it was a safe bet.

Forty-five minutes later, when the food still hadn’t arrived, we started ripping the carefully designed, shabby chic atmosphere to shreds. Upscale country? We decided it looked more like a junk saler’s wet dream.

A half hour after that, when we finally got our ridiculously garnished plates and dried out food, our conversation quickly moved on to the kitchen staff’s questionable parentage and obvious inability to read a recipe.

Heck, even our dessert (a slice of cheesecake they semi-graciously comped us), tasted like a bar of perfumey soap with a little bit of cream cheese thrown in.

In other words? It was not good.

In fact, I’ve had better meals at Cracker Barrel (whose cuisine and décor they were all too obviously trying to one-up).

But you know what was good? The opportunity to indulge in a couple hours of unadulterated snark with my husband—without worrying about covering the baby’s delicate ears.

Because while it’s nice that she’s finally getting old enough to eat in a restaurant, it’s even nicer to eat in a restaurant without her.

And that? Is why we’re going to have to do this date night thing a little more often.