“I had a feeling we shouldn’t have eaten at this restaurant,” I said.
“Oh, well, at least the waitress was friendly and the tea was sweet,” Hubby replied.
“That’s true, and the view’s nice. I wonder how we can get to that trail from the outside of the lodge.”
“Do you realize that this is the first trip we have taken alone since we started having children? We need to do this more often.”
“I know, but I sure do miss the kids when they’re not here.”
As Hubby paid for the meal, I thought about the paradise we forfeited with the birth of our first son. The child didn’t kill the romance. Life just smothered it, I think. Maybe we simply forgot about that old kind of paradise and stopped seeking it. Maybe we traded it in for something different . . . Something lovely and good and fulfilling, but something different.
When Hubby caught up, he grabbed my hand and kissed my cheek. I think I blushed, but I wasn’t too worried about it. As we left the building and rounded the corner, Hubby whispered something in my ear, and I remembered that old paradise.
“There it is!” I said.
“Do you want to walk to the dock, or do you want to go into the woods?”
“If we go to the dock, the people eating in the restaurant will be able to see us. Let’s go the other way so we can be alone.”
When the sound of the lapping water filled my ears and the cool breeze off the lake hit my face, I felt invincible. I felt free. I felt loved. I felt peace. We soon came upon a bench, but trees were blocking the view, so we proceeded hand-in-hand. It was a good thing, too, because a much better bench was soon in view. Although we weren’t tired a bit, we sat on the bench and listened to the cicadas’ song.
“I want to have a little girl,” Hubby said. “Don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I’m too fat,” I said. "We’ve been married for twelve and a half years, and I’ve gotten fatter and fatter while you’ve gotten skinnier and skinnier.”
“You were big when you had the other two.”
“Not this big . . . and I think I’m growing a mustache!”
“What?!?” Hubby exclaimed. “Your lips are so beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful.”
The wind blew my hair from my face as we sat on the bench and watched the sun set. Just to the right of the sunset grew two trees, a fat one and a skinny one. “How fitting,” I thought. As I sat there with my reclaimed lover, I found a little of the paradise I lost so long ago.
“Oh, well, at least the waitress was friendly and the tea was sweet,” Hubby replied.
“That’s true, and the view’s nice. I wonder how we can get to that trail from the outside of the lodge.”
“Do you realize that this is the first trip we have taken alone since we started having children? We need to do this more often.”
“I know, but I sure do miss the kids when they’re not here.”
As Hubby paid for the meal, I thought about the paradise we forfeited with the birth of our first son. The child didn’t kill the romance. Life just smothered it, I think. Maybe we simply forgot about that old kind of paradise and stopped seeking it. Maybe we traded it in for something different . . . Something lovely and good and fulfilling, but something different.
When Hubby caught up, he grabbed my hand and kissed my cheek. I think I blushed, but I wasn’t too worried about it. As we left the building and rounded the corner, Hubby whispered something in my ear, and I remembered that old paradise.
“There it is!” I said.
“Do you want to walk to the dock, or do you want to go into the woods?”
“If we go to the dock, the people eating in the restaurant will be able to see us. Let’s go the other way so we can be alone.”
When the sound of the lapping water filled my ears and the cool breeze off the lake hit my face, I felt invincible. I felt free. I felt loved. I felt peace. We soon came upon a bench, but trees were blocking the view, so we proceeded hand-in-hand. It was a good thing, too, because a much better bench was soon in view. Although we weren’t tired a bit, we sat on the bench and listened to the cicadas’ song.
“I want to have a little girl,” Hubby said. “Don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I’m too fat,” I said. "We’ve been married for twelve and a half years, and I’ve gotten fatter and fatter while you’ve gotten skinnier and skinnier.”
“You were big when you had the other two.”
“Not this big . . . and I think I’m growing a mustache!”
“What?!?” Hubby exclaimed. “Your lips are so beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful.”
The wind blew my hair from my face as we sat on the bench and watched the sun set. Just to the right of the sunset grew two trees, a fat one and a skinny one. “How fitting,” I thought. As I sat there with my reclaimed lover, I found a little of the paradise I lost so long ago.
