When we received a call that we had been scheduled to read *together*, for 35 minutes, in Girl’s first grade classroom, my gut reaction was one of joy:
“Oh my gosh, we actually have a date! You and I will be doing the same thing at the same time in the same place! How romantic! Love hangs in the air! And it will just be us, one teacher, and 28 first graders–that’s so intimate! Groom, you and I are going to rekindle our flame right there in front of the weekly spelling words!”
And then I realized that my thoughts, at age 39 with two kids, of what a “date” is compared to my ideas, at, say, age 13, of what a “date” was (a rumbling Chevy idling by the curb, dinner at a steakhouse, candlelight, a little Everclear, holding hands by a bonfire, some making out on the vinyl seats of the car)…well, they’d become more modest but ever-so-much-more satisfying.