The other day (7/20 to be exact) Ruben and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. As a present, my parents gave us money to go out to dinner so, being that every dollar I get these days goes to something responsible, I forced us to enjoy the money and go out. We went to the Apple Farm in San Luis Obispo. Neither of us had been there in our adult life so it seemed like a nice choice. Normally, during dinner, we would casually talk about our days until an uncomfortable silence would set in and then, for the rest of the evening we would be pulling teeth from one another to get conversation going again. That night, that was not a problem.
Part way through dinner, we were talking about pet owning and Ruben said that I was a bad pet owner. I said, “Look who’s talking!” – he has a ferret that he never plays with.
“Ferrets are supposed to be loving and cuddly”
and he said, “So. Are. You”.
Way to be mean on a nice night out! Were we not supposed to be celebrating our love for one another? I swear!
That’s about when I swatted his forehead with a spoon covered in vanilla ice cream.
I think it was the best date we’ve been on in a long time.
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