“Well you might need to schedule specific time to be nice to each other but we at Ivory Towers are both sweet and romantic to each other every waking second of the day. Shame about you though!” *smug face*
But then we got jobs, and responsibilities and had to start prioritising things – heaven forbid – besides which cafe we were going to sit and hold hands in, and so fun had to start being scheduled. And by that I mean real fun and not my idea of excitement which is discussing in which order items should be loaded into the dishwasher.
The problem comes when you try to find a gap in the already packed schedule of domesticity…
There’s work time, food shopping time, put the bin out and put another bag in time, find out if he’s ever going to leave the office and come home for dinner time, stare into the cupboards and hope a meal magically appears on your plate time, fall asleep on the sofa and wake up at 2am confused and alone time, and, if you’re lucky, perhaps even ‘So how was your day?’ time. If you’re not careful, discussing what should be included in the Tesco delivery may be the most fun you have all week.
My dating record is rather short. I have had two official first dates in my life: Gentleman 1 felt that was enough to confirm that I was a maniac whereas Gentleman 2 didn’t realise that ’til he’d already signed the mortgage papers.
But just because we’ve decided to commit that doesn’t mean the dating game is over, we just know who we’ll be playing it with for the rest of our lives. Some would say that takes all the fun out of it, but those people were clearly never as bad at the game as me.
And we need it too. Mainly because the attire my beloved sees me in most frequently is my house clothes – i.e the top half of whatever I’ve been wearing at work paired whichever pair of jeans are lying around in the bedroom (Yes Cosmo, I am available for your ‘How to bag a man and keep him!’ feature) so it’s important that we seek out opportunities to dress up and give my slippers a night off.
And so enter date night. I never actually say the words aloud as my fellow datee shudders in the face of any such relationship jargon. Whilst he loves sitting on the sofa and watching a film, uttering ‘cosy night in’ would see our cinema snacks covered in vomit.
So, call it what you like, every now and then we leave the house together, have a drink or two and maybe something to eat and remember what supercoolfuntrendy people we really are – followed by an out-of-house reminder that once 10pm hits, I’m at risk of falling asleep no matter where I am.
What matters most, of course, is enjoying yourselves wherever you are. Whether it’s propping up the bar in some swanky hotel, or doing so much clothes washing you high-five at the site of the bottom of the linen basket.
But I do think it’s healthy to schedule the odd night on the tiles every now and then, just to get you out of the house. No matter how hard I try to sell it, taking the bin out together is never going to pass as a romantic activity.